


The Raven and the Eagle

by itchyfingers



Category: Michael Fassbender - Fandom
Genre: Druids, F/M, Ireland, Paganism, Roman Britain, Werewolf, celtic setting, faoladh, irish werewolf, iron age setting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-12
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-02-04 08:57:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 27
Words: 76,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1773271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itchyfingers/pseuds/itchyfingers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cian is talking to the trees when he hears the pained howl of an unfamiliar wolf. Running to her aid, he finds her cornered by strange men in metal shirts. She has already killed one of them, but is injured. He helps her kill the other men and only afterward does he find out that she’s a faoladh, just like him. But this first meeting might be their last because the dead men are not alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Michael Fassbender is the face claim for Cian, because obviously you're not going to have Michael as a name in Iron Age Ireland.
> 
> Pronunciation Guide
> 
> Cian KEE in  
> Breacán BREK awn  
> Bridach BREE dakh  
> Faoladh FWAY lah  
> Laoise LEE sha  
> Gráinne GRAWN yeh  
> Saraid SAR ad  
> Ruarc ROO ark

_Around 100 AD_

The trees talked to him. His parents had said it was just the wind through the leaves and the creaking of branches, but Cian heard the truth of the sounds. Most of the trees’ conversations had nothing to do with him, but when he asked questions they answered in the slow ponderous way that only creatures who have spent a century of watching the same moon overhead and feeling the same dirt between the toes can manage. Ever since he was a child they would tell him what they were supposed to be; this one a stave, that one an oar, this small one over here, knarled and twisted from the force of the wind, could be carved into toys for a child and the grain would look like fur or wings or stripes. This one should be left to rot to nourish the soil for the next generation of seedlings.  It was the village carpenter who had finally recognized his gift. Cian would sneak into his workshop and quietly watch Breacán at work, the sound of a plane smoothing lumber like a lullaby. It was when the five year old boy told Breacán that the piece of wood he had just picked up would make a better bowl than a shield that Breacán took Cian into the woods, blindfolded him, and had him identify the trees around him without touching them. Ever since that day, Cian had been a woodsman.

Today, twenty five years later, was his most important walk through the woods. He rested a hand against a tall ash and listened for a moment. The keel of a boat strong enough to cross the narrow sea. He carved a marking into the bark so he could come back for it later. A large oak still sleepy in the new spring grumbled and creaked. It wasn’t what he was looking for either.  He brushed his hand over the trunk of an old yew as he walked by and was pulled to a halt. This was the tree he needed. Staves and shields and spears would fall from the trunk and branches. Even as the tree’s voice echoed in his ears, he backed away. He would not fell a yew without the permission of the chieftain. He had been tasked to find wood for weapons after the seer had tossed the runes at the last full moon and had prophesied blood and fire and strange metal men and a golden eagle but even the seer’s visions weren’t enough for him to take a yew without special permission.

Cian put his chisel back in his pouch and began the walk back to the village. The peaceful morning gossip of songbirds was interrupted when a howl rent the air. The sound made his hair stand on end. He howled back, calling to the unfamiliar wolf. He knew the pack that roamed these woods and the angry voice he had heard wasn’t one of them. A short yelping cry came back to him and he began to run. He sniffed the cold air, letting the scent of strangers guide him. He heard the fighting before he could see it, the scream of a man being cut off and a pained cry from the wolf. He burst out of the forest on to the top of a rocky outcropping around a spring fed pond to see a wolf being attacked by three strange men wearing metal shirts. A fourth lay on the ground with its throat ripped out. The three still standing were trying to back the wolf into a corner against the rocks he stood on. Two of them had long spears. The third was using a dagger. His spear was broken off in the wolf’s flank. Without a thought, Cian jumped from the rocks onto the men. He embedded his chisel in the neck of the man he landed on and with a savage thrust, severed the man’s throat. Not bothering to wipe the spray of fresh blood from his face, Cian spun around and grabbed the next man’s spear. He yanked the stranger off balance and as he stumbled, his chisel found home again. The wolf took advantage of the distraction and hamstrung the other soldier. Cian turned just in time to see her sharp teeth sink into the man’s throat.

The dying man’s gurgles were the only thing Cian heard as he looked around for any other and as quiet returned to the forest his breathing slowed. He wiped off his chisel before tucking it in his bag and turned to the injured animal. “What say I take a look at that spear and see if I can get it out for you?” He held out his hand to the wolf and she crawled over to him, whining deep in her throat. She was darker than the wolves he had seen around here, with auburn markings around her throat and legs. “You’re a pretty one aren’t you? What are you doing wandering around the forest by yourself? Where’s the rest of your pack, pretty lady?” He muttered nonsense to the animal as he stripped off his shirt and wet it in the pond before using it to wipe away the blood clumping her fur around the spear shaft. “This would be easier if I could just tell you to go in the pond, but I think you’d take my hand off if I tried to pick you up.”

The wolf struggled to its feet and stepped into the chill water. Cian sat back on his haunches and eyed the wolf curiously as she cleaned the blood off of her muzzle. “Do you understand me, lady?”

The wolf nodded.

Cian hadn’t heard of anyone powerful enough to be partnered with a wolf. That was the stuff of bard tales. “Well, your master is going to be upset you’ve gone missing.”

The wolf pulled back her upper lip in a sneer that revealed her long fangs.

“No master?” Another nod. Cian washed the blood off of his hands and face as he wondered where this strange wolf had come from. “Either way, let me get that wound cleaned.” He scooped up handfuls of water and sluiced away the blood until he could get a good look at the wound. The spear head was completely embedded in her leg. By all rights, she should be dead and if he didn’t get that spear out, she soon would be. He gave the broken shaft an experimental tug and the wolf snapped at his hand. “Listen, lady, I need to get that spear out.”

The growl that answered him was not reassuring.

“I’m helping. I’m your friend.” He reached for the shaft again but she yelped and backed away.

Cian crouched in the pool’s shallows and they stared at each other. Blood slowly seeped down her leg. “I’m going to show you something, ken?”

The amber eyes blinked at him.

Cian quickly shed the rest of his clothes and then got down on all fours. With a moment’s concentration, he shifted his form into a wolf and then sat back on his haunches. He waited for her response to his revelation but was not expecting her to shimmer and shift into a human. The broken shaft stuck out of her thigh, leaking blood down skin pale as milk, staining the clear water around her. Her arms and legs were covered with freckles the same color as her hair, the same auburn as had marked the wolf. She looked up at him with eyes that were now hazel. “Help me.”

><

Bridach woke to a small face with big blue eyes just a few inches from her own. She jerked back and the little face smiled and then whirled around. “Da! She’s awake!” She tugged back the hanging blanket and ran out of the small room.

Bridach looked around the small room. The bed she was on was beautifully carved and piled with furs and woven blankets that were fraying around the edges. The cloth hanging that separated this space from the rest of the cottage was beautifully patterned, but its edges were fraying as well. She tried to sit up but the pain in her leg made her grimace and she laid back down before pulling back the coverings to see her leg. Whoever had pulled out the spear had packed wool over it and then tightly wrapped it in pale cloth. No blood had seeped through the bandages. She looked around for her clothing and saw them sitting on top of a small chest at the foot of the bed. Right as she was about to reach for them, the hanging drew back and the man from the pond stood there with a bowl in his hand. “I brought you some stew.”

At the scent of the food, her stomach rumbled loud enough for the man to hear it and he grinned. “I’d like to get dressed first, if you don’t mind.”

He nodded and picked up her clothes and moved them closer to her. “Just give a shout when you’re ready.”

Bridach bound her breasts and then pulled on her trousers and tunic. She left her boots and socks off for now; she didn’t think she’d be walking very far in the next few days. She quickly went through her satchel and found nothing missing, and her staff was propped in one corner. Her cloak was still sitting on the chest. Whoever he was, he’d been careful enough to retrieve all of her belongings, strong enough to carry her back to his house, however far that had been, and compassionate enough to rescue a wolf against armed strangers. She had been scared to turn back into a woman, fearing another attack like the one she had just survived, but when he had revealed himself to be a faoladh as well, she knew she was safe.

Grabbing hold of the bed frame she managed to get to her feet, but when she tried to walk, her leg wouldn’t bear any weight. “Hello?”

The blanket moved aside again and he was standing there with the bowl of soup. “I don’t think you should be out of bed.”

“I, however, do. Do you have a chair I might use?”

“Laoise, come put this bowl on the table.”

The little girl ran over and took the bowl and carried it over to the table with tiny steps to keep it from sloshing. The man’s fond smile was visible even through his ginger beard. “Put your arm around my shoulders.”

She grabbed the man’s shoulder and he helped her hobble over to the table. She seated herself on the bench and Laoise pushed the bowl of stew over to her.

“You eat. I’ll be back in a bit and we can talk.”

“Where are you going?”

“I have some work I need to finish up. Don’t worry. I’m not going to tell tales. The only other person who knows you’re here right now is Gráinne who sewed up your leg, and Laoise who has been told to be as silent as a fox sneaking up on a chicken.”

The little girl laughed at her father and he ruffled her brown hair. “Take care of the nice lady while I’m gone, little fox.”

She nodded and her father walked out the door, shutting it quietly behind him. Bridach ate the soup quietly and the little girl watched her with wide eyes, twisting some of her hair around her finger. “Are you a wolf lady?” she finally asked.

Bridach put down the wooden spoon. “How do you know about wolf ladies?”

“My mumma was a wolf lady.”

So the man had found a mate. That meant the little girl in front of her was a wolf lady in the making. She had never been around a pup before. “Yes, I’m a wolf lady.”

“Are you going to die like my mumma? I saw you bleeding.”

Bridach’s heart contracted painfully. No wonder she had been watching so carefully to see if the new lady was going to wake up. “No, little fox. I’m not going to die. At least not any time soon.”

“Good.” She scampered across the room and pulled out a chair that had been hiding in the shadows of the hearth. “You should come sit here. It’s a nice chair. It even rocks.”

With Laoise’s help, Bridach made it over into the rocking chair. The polished wooden arms were perfectly shaped to fit her arms and the little girl climbed up the ladder into the loft and tossed down a pillow before jumping back down and pulling it over in front of the fire. She plopped down on it. “Tell me a story.”

Bridach was just finishing up a story about a fish who outwitted three trolls when the man came back. Laoise was enraptured, her chin resting on her hands as she listened. He frowned as she told the last bit of the story, and as soon as she finished he called to his daughter. “Go out and play for a while. I saw some ripe strawberries down where the creek bends this morning. Maybe you and Saraid can go find some.”

“Yes, Da.” The child picked up a basket by the door and went out. Bridach could hear her yelling for her friend as soon as the door shut.

“Who told you that you could sit there?”

“Laoise did. I’m sorry. Is it not allowed?”

The man rubbed his hand over his beard and then through his hair. “I made that chair for my wife. No one’s sat in it since she died.”

Bridach lurched to her feet. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know, Laoise told me to and then demanded a story and –,”  

She was cut off with a wave of his hand. “You didn’t know, and Laoise barely remembers her mother. You’ve done no harm. Just a bit of a shock to see it being used again.” Bridach was still standing on her feet, bracing her weight against the wall with her hand. “Go ahead and sit.”

“Are you sure?”

“Aye. Sit.” Bridach lowered herself into the chair again and he pulled up a bench. “I see Laoise didn’t let you finish before she got a story out of you.” He handed her the bowl.

“I didn’t mind.”

“Well eat that, and when you’re done, we’ll have a talk about who you are, why you were wandering around the forest in the altogether, and who those men were.”

“I’m Bridach, I was trying to take a bath, and I’ve never seen them before.” She scooped up a spoonful of the soup and popped it into her mouth.

“I’m Cian. You’re safe here. We’ve had at least one faoladh in this village for generations and everyone knows it.”

Bridach let her head relax against the high back of the chair. “That’s a relief. I was trying to figure out how I could escape with a lame leg but I’ll stop plotting now.”

“Gráinne will come by later to look at your leg again. She stitched you up and she’ll dose you unconscious if you start walking around before she thinks you ought to be moving and I’d rather go up against two hands of those men out there than disobey Gráinne when she’s pronounced her wisdom on you.”

Bridach was interested in meeting this Gráinne while awake. She had passed out from pain or blood loss not long after the man had picked her up, and remembered nothing after that until waking up to see Laoise staring at her. “And where will I stay while I recover?” Perhaps Gráinne would have a place for her to stay until she recuperated.

“Here.”

She looked around the small cottage. There were no other beds and she wouldn’t be able to climb the ladder. “There’s no room for me here.”

“There’s plenty of room. Laoise and Ruarc sleep upstairs in the loft and the bed is big enough for us both, or I can sleep here in front of the fire.”

Bridach wasn’t sure which part of that statement to address first. “Ruarc?”

“My son.”

“Oh.” Better have it out now, she decided. “You’re not expecting me to lay with you, are you?”

His laughter showed a mouthful of decidedly un-wolfish teeth and her embarrassment at his obvious dismissal caused her to blush so markedly she looked sunburned. “Of course not. I’ll go wolf and sleep at the foot of the bed if you’re worried, but no. If you decide you want to enjoy a bit of bedplay when you’re feeling better, you’ve got a mouth and two good hands. I’m sure you can find some way to let me know. But I’ll not make an advance on you. My job is to protect the lost and the wandering. You don’t pay me for that.”

Bridach nodded and let her hair hide her face as she ate the rest of her soup. She was grateful for the opportunity to den up and recover without having to worry about food or safety. She’d just have to make sure she was gone before she went into heat again. Humans were bad enough to be around when she was in rut. Being around a male faoladh would be a disaster.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation Guide
> 
> Móirín – MOR een

Gráinne took one look at Bridach being out of bed and Cian immediately apologized for letting her stand up. He didn’t even let her limp the few steps back to bed, choosing instead to pick her up and carry her. He had strong arms and he smelled like wood shavings and musk and winter. Bridach filled her lungs with his aroma before he placed her on top of the covers and then left as Gráinne shooed him out of the small space.

Gráinne was not what she had expected. She was young, probably as young as herself instead of an old crone, and her light brown hair stood out in disarray about her head like she was wearing the wind as a cloak. Her eyes were every color and no color at all. A small blue crescent moon was tattooed on her forehead, and a sickle was tucked into her belt next to an herbing pouch. “I was hoping to get back over here before you woke up and save you the trouble of getting dressed. You just have to take it all off again.”

Bridach whined in irritation. Getting dressed had tired her out. She didn’t want to wrestle with her clothes again. “Why?”

“Well, partly so I can check your leg and clean the wound again, and partly because your clothes are in desperate need of a wash and you didn’t get to that part before you got attacked.” Gráinne held out a dress. “I brought this for you to wear until I can get you yours back.” Bridach felt like she was back in her mother’s arms as the young lady methodically stripped her and then held out her hand for the breast band. “It’s not like you need it anyway. Breasts like that stand up nice by themselves.”

Cian choked on whatever he was drinking on the other side of the hanging.

Gráinne giggled, sounding her own age for the first time. “Oh, it’s like that is it? I guess travelling alone you would want to minimize the temptation. Though you’d have to cut that hair and even then no one’s going to look at you and think boy.”

Bridach reached up and pushed her hair out of her face. It was a mess of tangles from having slept on it down. “I was wearing it braided. I’d undone it to wash it and haven’t had the chance to do it up again.”

“Well, we can see to that as soon as you give me that band and I check your leg.”

Bridach unwound the binding and handed it to Gráinne. “Good. Now, lay back and I’ll undo these wrappings.”

Bridach closed her eyes to avoid having to see her wound. She felt the release of pressure as the bandage came off and then the wool was removed.

“Cian, I need some clean water. Fresh! Not the stuff you’ve had sitting around since you washed your hands this morning.”

“I know what clean means, Gráinne. Gods know you’ve stitched me enough.”

“I keep thinking that sooner or later you’ll learn to stay out of the way of your own tools, but maybe it’s your way of wooing.”

The door slammed shut and Gráinne laughed.

Bridach opened her eyes again. She couldn’t quite make sense of the emotional undercurrent of their banter. “Are you and he…?”

“Cian?” Again that wisp of laughter filled the air. “No. No. For me, men are for ritual. For fun I prefer women.”

“Oh.”

Gráinne sat down on the edge of the bed. “There must have been women like me in your circle.”

“How did you know…” Again her voice trailed off.

“That you’ve learned some of the goddess’s arts? They cling to you like moonlight.” Her fingers brushed over Bridach’s bare forehead. “Not fully dedicated, though.”

She closed her eyes against the memory. “No.”

Gráinne slid her fingers into the mess of auburn curls and began to detangle them. Bridach lay quietly while the other woman slowly worked her hair back into a semblance of order. “Why did you flee?”

Her eyes popped open. “What makes you.” She stopped and shook her head. “Never mind. I had a vision.”

“You weren’t the seer.” She kept up the soothing slide of her fingers through Bridach’s hair.

“No.”

“And they didn’t believe you.”

Bridach let her eyes slide shut again as what should have been questions came out as statements. “No.”

“So you set off on your own to see what you could do.”

“Yes.”

“Fool.”

The laughter was back in her voice and Bridach smiled. She’d been called worse. “I know.”

“And have you found the right place now?”

“Yes.” She opened her eyes as pain branched from her eyes to mar her smooth skin. “I didn’t see myself getting stabbed.”

“You never do.” She bent and lightly kissed Bridach. “Welcome home, little sister.”

Tears filled Bridach’s eyes at the gentle words. When Gráinne moved to stand up, Bridach grabbed the front of her dress and pulled her back down and kissed her again. Gráinne smiled against Bridach’s mouth and parted her lips for the wounded woman’s fiercely questing tongue. Bridach needed to remind herself that she was still alive and Gráinne’s warmth and yielding softness stoked her inner fire that had nearly been extinguished.  Bridach sank her fingers into the other woman’s hair. The strands still stirred like they were in the breeze, but Bridach didn’t care. She just wanted to wrap her arms around the other woman and never let go again.

The sound of the door opening made Bridach let go and Gráinne kissed her tenderly one more time, a delicate flick of her tongue against the other’s before she stood again. “It’s good to be alive still and not be alone anymore.”

Bridach gulped back the tears that had been dammed by the other woman’s lips and merely nodded.

Cian pulled back the hanging and handed a wooden bowl to Gráinne. “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine. I just need to cleanse the wound again. Hold that, I need both of my hands for this.” Gráinne dipped a cloth in the water and carefully cleaned away the blood that had coagulated around the injury.

Bridach hissed in a breath at the touch and then gritted her teeth together.

“Do you want something to bite?”

Bridach shook her head though she sucked in more air as Gráinne continued to wash her thigh.

“If you change your mind, I’m sure Cian has something around here you can sink your teeth into.”

“I’m fine,” Bridach snarled.

Gráinne stopped and crossed her arms over her chest. “If you’re going to go wolf on me, I’m going to make Cian sit on you until I’m done.”

Bridach was starting to see what Cian had meant about not wanting to face off against her. Those eyes chilled you all the way down to the soul. She tilted up her chin, exposing her throat to the waif of a woman. “I’m sorry.”

Gráinne nodded and went back to work. Once the wound was clean again, Gráinne rubbed in a salve. Tears sprang to Bridach’s eyes as the woman worked and Cian took her hand and let her squeeze it in an attempt to keep from howling in pain. Finally she covered the wound with fresh wool and wrapped it with clean cloth. “There we go, all done.”

Bridach wiped away the tracks of the tears that had escaped despite her best efforts. “Do we have to do that again?”

“You know we do. I’ll be back in the morning.” Gráinne handed her a clay mug. “Drink that and you’ll sleep better.”

Bridach sniffed the liquid. Ale and herbs she couldn’t identify. She downed the contents and handed the mug back.

“You are not to get out of bed until I see you again? Is that understood?”

Bridach nodded and yawned. Whatever had been in that drink was powerful enough that her vision was already blurring around the edges.

“I’ll leave more of this with Cian so if you need more in the middle of the night make him get it for you.” Gráinne pulled a blanket over her and then left the little room without saying farewell. Cian followed her.

Bridach listened as the door open and shut. She didn’t know if Cian had left as well, but it was quiet and within a few minutes she was sound asleep.

Gráinne had gestured for Cian to follow her so he did. Cian’s cottage was on the very edge of the village and no one was around as Gráinne looked back at the little house. “She needs sleep and meat. None of that fish stuff you survive on.”

Cian crossed his arms and sighed the sigh of someone who has been lectured needlessly before. “I know how to care for someone who’s lost a lot of blood.”

“You need to be careful with her.”

“Careful how?”

“She’s touched.”

His eyebrows lurched together. “What does that mean?”

“She’s faoladh, but she’s something else too, and I don’t know what it is. She began to walk the goddess path but she has left it in search of something else.”

Cian glanced back at the cottage where the strange girl slept. “What?”

“I don’t know and more importantly she doesn’t either.”

He huffed a laugh. “You two had a nice chat while I was fetching water for you.”

Gráinne slapped the man’s arm. “The seer isn’t the only one that has visions, Cian. I’ve seen her face before.”

Cian looked down at the small woman. He had never known Gráinne to admit to visions before. “What else did you see?”

“Fire.”

“Just like the seer.”

Gráinne stared at the small cottage like she was seeing the flames again. “No, this wasn’t buildings burning. It was her. She is fire, Cian. Be careful with her or you might get burnt.”

Her warning echoed and whipped around his head. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up and a growl rumbled in his chest. “Is she dangerous? I won’t have her stay if my children are in danger.”

Gráinne was still lost to her visions. “She isn’t dangerous. But fire burns. It’s what it does, whether it wants to or not.”

>< 

Cian sat in the rocking chair in front of the dying fire. Laoise and Ruarc were asleep in the loft and Bridach still hadn’t woken from the dosing Gráinne had given her several hours earlier. Thoughts of his wife filled his heart as the arms of the chair were just a bit too tight on him, making him feel like she was giving him a hug. He’d had to reassure Laoise that the wolf lady was just sleeping and wasn’t going to die like her mother. Ruarc had pulled back the hanging, stared at her for a minute and then grunted and sat down to supper. It felt like grunts were Ruarc’s major form of communication these days; he had been the same way at his son’s age. Ruarc had been a surprise for him and Móirín, but their bonfire baby had been loved. Now he was just glad that Móirín had enjoyed as many years with her son as she had. There were times he could swear he felt her hand or heard the echo of her laughter in the days and months after her death, but it had been at least a year since the last time he had sensed her in the cottage.

“Cian?”

The voice jolted him out of this thoughts “Móirín?”

“No, it’s Bridach.”

Cian shook his head. Of course. For a minute he had forgotten about the interloper. He stood and brushed his hand over the back of the chair. It could use a good oiling. He would have to do that tomorrow.

He pulled back the hanging. “Ready for another drink?”

She held the fur up over her chest and her hair was pulling loose from the braid, leaving wisps brushing against her cheeks. The small oil lamp on the nightstand barely illuminated her face. “I actually need to make water first.”

“Of course. Pot’s under the bed.” He let the hanging drop. She wasn’t Móirín. She wasn’t his wife calling to him in the darkness. She was another faoladh naked in his bed. He would talk to Gráinne tomorrow about having Bridach stay with her. It would be easy to warm himself at Bridach’s fire but Gráinne’s words about getting burnt echoed in his head. He waited until he heard her climb back into bed before he brought her the next mug of Gráinne’s concoction. She emptied it easily and laid back down.

He was pulling back the hanging to leave again when she said, “Are you coming to bed soon?”

“I think I’m going to bed down out here.”

“Oh.”

He turned and looked at her, squinting in the darkness. “You sound disappointed. Even Gráinne can’t heal you that fast.”

“I don’t want to…” She growled in frustration and Cian felt his hackles rise. “It’s nice to have someone close in the dark when the nightmares come.”

Cian stared at her for a long time and then dropped the hanging and blew out the lamp.

Bridach heard the rustle of fabric and then the bed sagged as it accommodated the new weight. He climbed up next to her and a long rough tongue licked her face. She reached out and patted the wolf next to her. Without thinking she shifted her form and licked him back. Long teeth closed around her muzzle and held her still for a moment and then released. She curled up against him and felt his head rest on her back. She wrapped her tail around him and went back to sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation Guide
> 
> Cróine CRO in yeh  
> Tadhg TYG  
> Olcán UL cawn

Bridach woke as sunlight filtered through the small open window and fell across her eyes. Cian was gone and had been for a while judging by the scent in the room, but a small black pup was curled up asleep against her stomach. She had no experience with pups and didn’t know what would happen if she shifted back into human form. She desperately needed to make water again, but if she startled the small creature would she bite?

Gráinne pulled back the hanging as Bridach was awkwardly trying to edge away from the child without waking her and laughed. “There she is. Laoise, you know better than this. Cróine is wondering where you are.”

The little wolf yawned as she lifted her head from her paws and then jumped down from the edge of the bed. A few seconds later, Laoise stood up and picked up her dress from off the floor and tugged it on over her head.

“Sandals too. She’s taking you to the river to teach you how to catch fish with your bare hands.”

“Yes, Gráinne.” She plopped down on the threshold to fasten her sandals and then ran off without saying goodbye.

Once the girl was gone, Bridach shifted back into her human form. “Did she think I was her father?”

“Oh no. She knew exactly who you were. When her mum was dying, she’d curl up with her like that.”

Bridach bolted upright and grabbed for the dress Cian had left on the foot of the bed for her. “She doesn’t think I’m going to be her mum, does she?” She pulled the dress over her head and down into place. It wasn’t as good as her own clothes, but at least she felt covered.

“I don’t know what she thinks. Have you asked her?”

“I don’t want to put that idea into her head.”

Gráinne pushed Bridach back down on the bed. “The women here have taken it in turn to help raise her. Teach her the skills she’ll need as an adult.” She pulled Bridach’s dress up enough to see the sloppy bandage and frowned at her. “Now if I could just get someone to teach you to stop doing things that will make your wound worse, my life would be easier.”

Bridach felt the growl in her throat though she didn’t vocalize it. “I’ve only been out of bed to make water.”

“And you shifted your form. Not only does that dislodge the bandage since it was tied for a human leg and not a wolf one, it strains the muscle. Pick a form and stay that way.” She unwrapped the bindings from Bridach’s leg. “Why did you go wolf anyway? You’re safe here.”

“Cian slept as a wolf. It made more sense for me to sleep as one as well.”

Gráinne washed her hands in a bowl of clear water and then lightly touched the flesh around the stiches. It was cool and dry. “Why?”

Bridach hissed as she pressed harder. “It just did.”

Gráinne smiled knowingly and began to rub more salve into the healing wound. “So you could sleep pressed up against him?”

Bridach rose up off the bed, her lips pulling back from her teeth. “No!”

Gráinne pressed her back down. “Then why?”

“You wouldn’t understand.”

Gráinne began washing the wound. “You would be surprised at what I understand.”

Bridach looked out the window at the sunshine. She could see the tips of trees and hear a trickle of running water. Being in this cottage was quickly going to drive her mad. The air was stale and everything smelled old. Finally, she began to speak, aware that Gráinne had paused in her task waiting for her to talk. “I haven’t been around another of my kind since I was four. My parents were both killed, and the local priestess took me in, but she thought me being a faoladh interfered with my ability to learn to listen to the goddess, so she never let me change. I had to go hide in the forest if I wanted to be in my wolf form. Getting to sleep next to another faoladh, both of us in our wolf forms – I haven’t done that since I was Laoise’s size.”

Gráinne perched on the edge of the bed and took Bridach’s hand. “Why did you think that would be hard to understand?”

“I don’t want you thinking that I’m picturing myself as having found a new family with a hole in it just the right size for me to fill.” She tried to pull her hand back but the priestess was surprisingly strong considering how much she resembled a wisp of wind.

“You haven’t?”

The hair on the back of her neck rose in irritation. “No!”

“Cian is a handsome man. He rescues you, brings you into his home, shares his bed with you, and you haven’t had even one thought about not leaving when your leg heals?”

Bridach found herself doubting her decision as she gazed into those oddly hued eyes. She shook herself like she’d just plunged into a river. “I am here because of my vision. That doesn’t involve a new family.”

“Visions don’t show everything.”

Bridach turned away and looked out the window again. The trees never harassed her like this. “They show enough. I should talk to the chieftain. I should have talked to him yesterday.”

“I will have Cian bring him and the seer this evening. After you have slept more.”

“Is there something I can eat first? I don’t need much, but I am hungry.”

“Of course. I got so busy I forgot to feed you.” She retrieved a wooden bowl from the hearth and pulled back the cloth that covered it. “Porridge with strawberries and a little bit of honey. He must like you to share the honey.”

Bridach huffed in exasperation. “Gráinne, do you meddle this much in everyone’s life, or is there something about Cian or I that you find irresistible?”

Gráinne’s laughter chimed out like the wind through charms hung from the trees to confuse evil spirits. “I meddle a bit.” She sat back down on the edge of the bed and watched Bridach eat. “But Cian’s a good man, and she’s been gone for almost three years now and I don’t like seeing him alone. And little Laoise could use a permanent mother instead of getting passed around like an extra fish.”

“Surely there are women in the village who need a husband.”

“None that stand up to the memory of Móirín.”

Bridach swallowed the suddenly lumpy mouthful of porridge. “What was she like?”

“A smile for everyone she ever met, but if you wronged her she would never forgive you. She wasn’t beautiful, but she had the loveliest singing voice I’ve ever heard. She and Cian knew from the time they both had hair between their legs that they were going to get married. Her getting pregnant with Ruarc just sped up the process a little.”

Bridach was curious about this missing child. In her mind he was a smaller twin of his father. “I still haven’t seen him.”

“He’s helping his da. Cian’s trying to teach him for all that Ruarc doesn’t want to learn it. Swears he’s going to just use what he learns to build a boat and sail down the river to the sea and never come back.”

Bridach’s spoon clunked against the edge of the bowl. “He surely doesn’t mean that.”

“Everyone leaves eventually.”

“But…” Bridach shook her head. “You’re right. Everyone leaves.”

>< 

Laoise clattered back into the house with three fish on a string. She dumped them on the table and then jumped up on the bed. “Are you plaiting your hair?”

“What does it look like?”

Laoise tilted her head to the side and wrinkled her nose. “I think you’re trying but your hair is very messy so it doesn’t look good.”

Bridach laughed. “Well, I’m not supposed to get out of bed and your father doesn’t seem to keep a comb anywhere close.”

“I’ll get one!”

Bridach was startled when Laoise ran back out the front door instead of going up the ladder. Did she really not own her own comb? A few minutes later, she ran back into the house, a comb clutched in one hand.

“I found Gráinne’s. She wasn’t home but I don’t think she’ll mind.” Bridach covered her mouth for a moment to keep from laughing as the little girl climbed back up on the bed. Gráinne probably wouldn’t mind, but she didn’t want to encourage any larcenous tendencies in the child. “Can I comb your hair?”

“Of course.” She scooted far enough forward where Laoise could stand behind her and struggled to keep from swearing as the girl enthusiastically worked out the knots and tangles in her long hair. Eventually, Laoise was satisfied and pronounced her pretty. She plopped down on the bed in front of Bridach and watched as she quickly plaited her hair in one long queue. “Can you get me my satchel?” Laoise pulled the pouch off of the chest at the end of the bed and gave it to her. She got a leather thong out of her bag and tied off her hair. “Is that better?”

“Yes. Now do mine.”

“Alright. Do you want one tail or two or should I do it in a wreath?”

“Do a wreath! I’ve never had that one before.”

The little girl sat quietly as Laoise combed out her hair and then carefully plaited it into a wreath that circled her entire head. She was just finishing up as Cian walked in. Ignoring his scowling supervision, she tied off the end of the braid with another thong and tucked the end under. “Now go put back that comb before Gráinne notices it’s missing.”

“Yes, wolf lady.”

“My name is Bridach, child.”

“Yes, Bree.”

“Off you go.”

Laoise slid off the bed. “Look, da. The wolf lady did my hair up. Don’t I look pretty?”

Cian’s smile was gentle as he lightly patted the top of his daughter’s head. “You’re very pretty.”

“Isn’t she pretty too?”

Cian and Bridach stared at each other. She refused to break eye contact and show weakness in front of him, even if she was embarrassed by Laoise’s question. “Yes, she’s very pretty,” he finally said.

Laoise seemed satisfied with this answer and ran out the door, the comb clutched firmly in her pudgy fingers.

“I did not put her up to that,” she said right as he asked, “Why were you doing her hair?”

“She asked me too. Does she really not have a comb of her own?”

“I don’t know. Móirín must have left one around here somewhere.” He picked up the fish that Laoise had left on the table.  “The chieftain and the seer will be over soon to talk to you. I’ve already told them all that I know about the attack and they’ve looked at the weapons and clothing the men had. They mostly want your side of things now.”

“Will they make me leave if they don’t like it?”

“No. I’ve given you guest right to my home. They won’t violate that.” He held up the fish. “I’m going to go clean these outside.” And with that he left again.

>< 

Cian had helped her into the rocking chair when the chieftain and the seer arrived. Tadhg, the chieftain, was a large man with short brown hair except for two braids that hung in front of ears. He had a bushy beard and a booming voice, and wore bands of gold around each wrist. The seer, Olcán, was a man close to her own age. He had clear brown eyes and dark brown hair that hung to his shoulders and carried a familiar looking staff with a chunk of crystal the color of the ocean on a sunny day set in one end. He wore no gold, but elaborately tooled leather bracers covered each arm from his wrist to his elbow.

She told them of being attacked, shooting glances at Cian as she did so, but he sat in the corner whittling something small and ignoring all three of them. “What did you see in your vision?” Olcán asked.

Bridach closed her eyes to better remember the frightening glimpses of the future that still plagued her. “Boats coming across the narrow sea and men in metal shirts. They built great buildings and surrounded them with walls. There were battles and many people died. Women and children and men. They took our lands and made us serve them. Some of our leaders chose to give fealty to them and were given great wealth. We lose our way of life. We lose our gods and our knowledge if we do not stop them. If we can stop them here, then we will be protected.”

Olcán leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “How do you know this is the right place?”

“I saw Cian in my vision. I saw him fighting. They will land more boats on the beaches east of here and build a great settlement. If we can stop them here, we can be safe.”

Tadhg and Olcán both asked many more questions about her visions, what the beach had looked like where they landed, what was the terrain surrounding the settlement, how many boats and men were there. She answered them to the best of her memory and listened as they discussed possible locations that matched her descriptions.

“If you were to go with us to the shore, do you think you could identify the places you saw?”

“She can’t walk,” Cian said, speaking for the first time. “Not until Gráinne gives her permission.”

“We can give her a horse.”

Bridach frantically shook her head. “Horses don’t like me.”

“A wagon then.” Olcán smiled at her.

“Then yes. I probably could.”

Plans were made for a voyage to the shore in a few days and Tadgh and Olcán left. Cian busied himself with spitting the fishes so they could cook over the fire.

“Is there anything I can do to help? I really don’t want to go back to bed yet.”

“I guess there’s no harm in letting you sit there, as long as you don’t move about much.”

He fetched her a mug of ale and one for himself as well before he sat down on the bench facing her. “So, you saw me in your vision.” He looked at her over the rim of the mug as he took a drink.

“Aye. With a big axe and a shield.” Did he think she’d seen him naked?

“And it still took me being faoladh to earn your trust when I found you injured.”

“Not everyone thinks our ability is a good thing.”

Cian didn’t answer, just drank his ale and went back to whittling. A small pile of shavings grew at his feet as his knife moved over the thin piece of wood.

She almost dropped her mug when he spoke again. “Gráinne said that Laoise decided to take a nap with you this morning.”

“I didn’t know she was there until I woke up.”

“And you braided her hair for her.”

“She asked.”

Again he fell silent. Bridach had an itching desire to kick him and make him spit out whatever he was chewing over in his mind. The brooding was getting annoying.

“I talked to Gráinne about having you stay with her, but she got all mysterious and said that you needed to stay here.”

Bridach pushed herself up out of the chair. “I can go. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to intrude.”

His knife stopped moving and he looked up at her with even more intensity than when he had been deciding if she were pretty. She froze underneath his observation. “Gráinne said you grew up without your pack around you.”

“Gráinne chatters more than a crow.”

His smile made it possible for her to move again. “She does.” He waved her back into the chair. “Let me teach you a little bit about having a pack. There’s only ever one breeding pair in an area. I’m not looking for another mate so if you plan on settling here, you won’t find a mate here unless another lone comes wandering like you did. But if he did, you’d have to leave with him because I wouldn’t let him stay.”

His officiousness rubbed her the wrong way. “I don’t know that you’d have a say in it. You’re not the chieftain.”

“It’s not a human way, Bridach. It’s a faoladh way. One male is in charge in an area. He could stay if he kills me or drives me off, but my Móirín’s ashes are buried here. I won’t leave and the pack here is mine, Bridach. It’s not ours.”

 _Then maybe you should tell your pack members to stop crawling into bed with me._  She schooled her expression into comfortable neutrality. She wouldn’t bare her throat to him, but she didn’t need to snap at him either. “Well, this is all fascinating to know, but I plan on leaving as soon as I can walk.”

“You’re not staying to fight?”

She shook her head, wishing now that her hair was still loose and would cover her face. “I’m not a fighter, Cian, and I have the wound to prove it.”

“My Móirín was a fighter. That’s how she took the wound that eventually killed her. In battle.”

“Well I’m not Móirín!” His knuckles went white around the hilt of his knife and she forced herself to calm down again. “Me braiding your daughter’s hair isn’t going to change that,” she continued softly.

He regarded her for a while, the knife continuing to work away at the piece of wood in his hand. “No. I suppose it’s not.” He stood and put the knife and the carved piece of wood on the table. Bridach realized he was making a comb. “Now finish that up. You’ve been out of bed too long as it is. I’ll wake you for supper, though I suppose that Laoise will wake you up as soon as she walks in the door again.” He loomed over her with his arms folded until she finished her ale. As soon as she was done he scooped her up into his arms and carried her back to the bed, shouldering the hanging out of the way. She rested her head against his shoulder for a moment, imagining what it would be like for him to be carrying her to bed out of desire instead of duty. She pushed the thought out of her head, even as the scent of his musk lingered in her nose. It would have been thrice blessed to find a pack that would have taken her in, but he had made it very clear that she was not part of his pack. She had known that from the moment she had seen him though, because she had already seen him dead.  


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> pronunciation guide
> 
> Garbhán GAR vawn

The next few days fell into a simple routine. She would wake with Cian already gone. He slept next to her as a wolf but she stayed as a human. She tried to believe it was just to keep Gráinne from scolding her about her wound again but she’d never been good at lying to herself. Laoise would be curled up next to her asleep until Gráinne arrived to clean her wound. She’d shoo the little girl out to whichever woman was watching her that day and change the wrappings and feed her breakfast. Then Bridach would doze off and on for the day until Cian came back and helped her into the rocking chair where she would stay until he decided it was time for the whole family to go to bed. This usually happened when he was tired of Laoise asking her questions. Ruarc never asked her questions. He never talked, just sat in the corner and ate. He watched everything though and Bridach frequently found his eyes on her. He was still in that lanky stage, arms and legs too long for his body with the first hairs of manhood on his chin. He was fairer in color than his father. She tried to ask him about his plans to cross the sea once, but Cian cut her off. She never asked again.

The fourth day, Gráinne announced she was well enough to sit in a chair outside and Bridach happily took up residence on a bench outside the door, her back resting against the wall of the cottage. The sky was spotted with clouds and a cool breeze brought the scent of forest life and moving water to her along with the sound of laughing children. It didn’t take long for the little ones to discover her and she was soon besieged with dozens of questions and demands. Laoise apparently had kept secret that she was a faoladh but soon there was a ring of children around her feet listening to her tell stories and after a bit she noticed that a few women were dawdling in their chores to listen to a tale they hadn’t heard before. When she finished up a story about three little girls who had been turned into otters after being mean to a merrow, she was surprised to hear applause.

“You didn’t say you were a bard.” Olcán took a seat next to her on the bench.

Bridach didn’t look at him, instead choosing to trace one of the lines in the embroidery around the bottom of her tunic. Gráinne had finally brought her own clothing back that morning. She had not just cleaned the travel stains from it; she had added three lines in red and green and brown twisting and twining around each other at the neck and wrists and hem. “I’m not.”

“You have a bit of the gift about you to be able to tell a tale like that.”

She shook her head. “But I sound like a raven when I try and sing.”

“Do you play any instruments?”

“A few.”

He laughed at her answer. “A few, you say, and yet you claim you’re not a bard. Do you play the harp?”

“I don’t have one with me.” She shifted her weight to put more distance between her and the seer. He was so insistent about hearing her play. Next time she would find someplace to enjoy the sunshine where the children could find her if they wanted stories or their hair braided but where the adults wouldn’t find her as they went about their day. Children loved where adults judged.

“That’s no worry. Cian,” he turned and for the first time Bridach noticed Cian standing in the doorway of a near building, “do you still have Móirín’s harp?”

“No!” Bridach lurched to her feet, wincing as her leg gave way and grabbing Olcán’s shoulder to keep from falling. “I have my flute with me. It’s inside.”

Olcán clutched her hand and helped her sit back down. “You sit. I’ll get it if you tell me where it is.”

Cian drew himself up and stepped forward and Bridach shook her head, as much at him as at Olcán. “No. Laoise, go get my satchel for me?”

Laoise quickly fetched the satchel and Bridach took out a cloth wrapped bundle. She undid the thongs that tied the cloth in place and took out her flute. “I haven’t played in a while.”

“Play whatever you like. There is never enough music in the world.”

Bridach wriggled her fingers and licked her lips as she thought and then played the first thing that popped into her mind, a simple dance tune that was one of the first things she’d learned to play. One of the women started clapping along, emphasizing the rhythm, and the little children quickly got up to start dancing with much more enthusiasm than skill. Cian watched the whole thing with his arms folded across his chest, no hint of a smile even while watching Laoise dance.

When she finished, she asked Olcán, “Do you sing?”

“Well enough.”

“Let’s see if you know this one.” She started playing and a few bars in he nodded his head. She looped back to the beginning and he started to sing. It was the tale of a doomed hero and the love he left behind when he went away to war. Bridach had always loved the stories with sad endings and Olcán’s voice was a beautiful rich baritone. It was like the buildings themselves leaned in to listen and the long silence at the end showed the same spell had fallen over the listeners.

Cian listened to the music with his eyes closed. Móirín used to sing this song. The thought of her didn’t ache much anymore. When he had noticed the daily weight of grief diminishing, he had regularly probed it like touching a sore tooth with the tongue to make sure the pain was still there. Recently though, as Móirín had disappeared from his hourly thoughts, the ache had departed as well, leaving a sense of loss behind but no longer of pain. Maybe he had been foolish to so quickly dismiss the thought of a new mate. Móirín had tried to make him promise in the last few days, when the wound fever left her aware enough to actually speak, that he would find another love. It was the only thing he had ever refused her. And the goddess had sent Bridach here, shown her his face in vision. He opened his eyes to watch her playing. She was lost in the music, her eyes closed and swaying slightly, with the sunshine on her hair making it glow like flames.

Cian also noticed that Olcán was watching her with a marked interest. Olcán was young for a seer. Like most of the important people in the village, he was young as the battle that had taken his wife had also decimated the leadership of his village and all the ones nearby. He had been busy ever since making enough lumber to rebuild, busy enough to keep his mind off of the loss of his wife, and apparently busy enough to lose track of his children growing up. It had taken someone else to point out that his daughter lacked a comb and as he looked around at the women who had stopped to listen to the music, he wondered how many of them had braided his daughter’s hair without him knowing it. Even if he didn’t need a new wife, Laoise needed a mother. And the last thing the village needed was for the two of them to be at each other’s throats over a woman. He would have to signal his interest soon, before Olcán turned her head.

As the applause ended, Bridach turned to Olcán. “I think that’s all for right now. I’m finding myself tired.”

“You have to come to the gathering tonight.”

“What gathering?” Cian had mentioned nothing to her.

“The entire village gathers to have supper and hear matters of justice and trade news.”

That meant she would be a topic of conversation. “I’m not sure Gráinne will let me go.”

“You must come. I can carry you if your leg won’t bare your weight.”

Before she could answer, another voice responded. “I will take her.” Olcán stood up as Cian’s shadow fell over both of them.

Cian held out a crutch to her. “Here. See if this is the right height.”

She used Olcán’s arm to support her as she stood up. “Did you make this for me?” She tucked the crutch under her arm.

“For you? No. I have several in my workshop that I keep for when people need them. Whenever I see a likely shaped branch I bring it home to cure.”

“That’s very kind of you.” She took a few hobbling steps. “I think this is the right size.”

“Good. You should be able to get yourself out the front door without me having to carry you now.”

Bridach looked down at her bare feet. She should have put on her boots before coming outside. She looked like a child in front of him. “I’m sorry to be such a burden to you.”

Cian touched her cheek, edging between her and Olcán. “Not a burden.”

Bridach hadn’t blushed from such a simple touch before.

Olcán bid his farewell and the two of them stood silent in the sunshine until Cian finally spoke. “Where did you get your flute?”

“It was my mother’s.”

“You should take better care of it.”

Her lips pursed as she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from snapping. “I keep it wrapped and dry when I’m not playing.”

Cian ran a finger over the instrument, frowning as the wood dragged against his touch. “It needs to be oiled. The wood’s dry and will crack if you’re not careful. I’ll bring some back with me tonight.”

Again the conversation faltered and died. This time Bridach stepped into the awkward silence. “Cian, is there something I can do that would help you? I take up room in your bed and eat your food.”

“You’re my guest.”

She pulled at the neck of her tunic. Somehow the new embroidery made it fit weirdly and her skin itched. She wanted to strip naked and roll in a meadow until she felt like her skin fit again. “But I’m a bored guest. I can only sleep so much.”

“Well right now you need to sleep. You can act like you’re not wavering on your feet, but I see it.”

She grabbed the front of his tunic as she looked up at him. “You’ll think of something I can do though?”

“Yes, stubborn lass.” He scooped her up and carried her inside. “But now you sleep. You’ll be the center of attention tonight and need your rest, especially if they talk you into playing until the moon is full overhead.”

He carefully placed her on the bed and then tucked back a lock of her hair that had fallen from her braid. Bridach held up her flute. “Can you put this back in my satchel for me?”

“Of course. I’ll bring your satchel back in as well before the little birds that masquerade as children go through the rest of your things.” He brought back her satchel and the crutch and leaned it against the wall where she would be able to reach it.  “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed. “I can feel it on you. What’s got you worried?”

Bridach fretfully stroked the fur covering her. “You know the way you can feel a storm coming in on your skin? The air tastes different and the little hairs on your arms stand on end? That’s what it’s like laying here waiting for disaster to happen. It smells like smoke and ash and I can’t do anything because of my leg.”

“I’ll find something for you to do, but other people are working on this as well. I’ve been making staffs for new spears and Garbhán has been using the spear head we took out of your leg to improve our design. And tomorrow I’m going to fell a yew tree so I can make new shields.”

Her hands stilled in their restless motion as she glared up at him. “You’re taking a yew?”

“I know. But the tree calls to me and Olcán and Gráinne have given their permission. There will be full ceremony.”

She hadn’t seen a full ceremony in weeks. There wouldn’t be place for her in the circle, but just to hear it would be a blessing. “I would like to be there.”

“It’s too far for you to walk.”

Bridach tried to smile. It galled her that she had gotten so close to her goal and then at the last moment been injured. This leg wound was the source of too many complications, and all because she hadn’t been able to resist the lure of moss clothed rocks around a hidden pool, deep in the damp forest. “Of course.”

“But I’ll figure out something to make sure you can come watch.”

She smiled in relief but a twinge in her leg erased the expression. “Do you think those men have been missed? Were they here by themselves or are others already here?”

“I think the chieftain will discuss that this evening.” He put his hand on her face and swept it over her eyes. “Now go to sleep.”

“Cian,” she grabbed his hand, “please. You can’t wait any longer. Something has to be done.”

“I’ll talk to Tadhg tonight. Now sleep, lady. You may not be a warrior, but you have your own role in this fight.” He arranged the furs over her, making sure she was comfortably situated and that the sun wouldn’t shine in her face while she slept.

His attentiveness was a marked contrast to the last few days. “Why are you being so nice all of a sudden?”

“Have I been rude to you?”

“That first night you talked to me like a man to a woman he wouldn’t mind bedding if the chance occurred, since then you’ve been all fang and snarl. Now you look like you’re about to kiss me.”

Cian stared out the window for a moment and Bridach had a pang of guilt as she wondered if he really had been about to kiss her. She wouldn’t have stopped him. “You’re a woman,” he finally said.

“I’m fairly sure that you figured that out when you rescued me.”

He closed her mouth with a thumb under her chin and his index finger over her nose. “Listen a moment. You’re a woman. I’ve bedded women since Móirín died, but I’ve not had one in my bed or in my home. It felt a betrayal to let you sleep where she did and Laoise gave you her chair without a second thought. Just like that, you had replaced her mother.”

“I haven’t –,”

His fingers clamped down again. “But letting you mother Laoise isn’t betraying her memory.”

She raised her eyebrows and he freed her mouth. “Is that all you see in me? A new mother for your daughter?”

“And for Ruarc, of course.”

She levered herself up, wincing as her leg shifted position. “Then I shall leave right away before those children lose another mother. I am sure I can find someone in the village willing to let me sleep on their floor until I can walk again.”

Cian’s hand clamped down on her shoulder, preventing her from moving any more. “You aren’t going to Olcán.”

“I was thinking of Gráinne.”

His hand spasmed and then relaxed. He looked away again. “Right. Perhaps you will have success with her where I failed.”

Her lips pulled back from her teeth that were more pointed than they had been a minute previously. “Is that what this sudden niceness is about? You weren’t interested until another man came sniffing around and now you’ve decided you own me?”

“I do not pretend to own you, Bridach. One does not own fire. But I have lain by your side every night and your scent fills the air and I want you. I want you to stay here with me, not for Laoise or Ruarc or because I gave you guest right. I want you to stay here with me because you want me too.”

“I have told you before and you do not listen. I will not stay after I am healed.”

He surged to his feet. “Why not?” he bellowed.

“I have no reason to do so. There is no place for me here. The village doesn’t need a half-trained priestess or a bard who can’t sing.”

He stopped his pacing and ran a hand over his hair. “And if I said I need you?”

“I would laugh. I have been here a handful of days and am still a stranger to you. I was being trained to follow the goddess and the head priestess thought me being faoladh interfered with my ability to hear her voice. She tried to deny that part of me. Your interest is the opposite but it is the same. You have no interest in the human side of me; as long as I am faoladh, that is enough. You are a handsome man, Cian, and many women would love to bed you. I might still lay with you before I leave. But there has to be something more than both of us being faoladh to tie us together. I want to be loved for who I am, not just what am I.”

Cian sat on the edge of the bed and took her hand, holding it firmly when she tried to pull away. “You’re a woman, you’re faoladh, but you are not her. You have your own gifts. Móirín was horrible at braiding hair and telling stories. I see you as yourself, not as a copy.”

“And still I say I leave when I can walk without a crutch.”

Cian stared at her upturned chin, just high enough to defy him but not expose her throat. “Why will you not stay for the battle you have seen? The goddess grants you sight and you turn away from the path she has set you on.”

Her chin fell and she shrank in on herself. “Maybe I do not want my memories haunted by the things I have seen only in vision.”

He rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand. “But what if it is you who can stop them?”

“I am not a warrior, Cian. You know that. I have never held a spear or a shield. What could I possibly do?”

“Maybe you should ask the goddess you ran away from.” He stroked his fingers against her cheek to take the sting out of the words.

Bridach warred with the competing desires to rub her face against his hand or bite it. “I didn’t run away from her. I came to find the people in my vision. And I have found them.”

“And now what? You will return to the priestess who hates the part of you that I would cherish? I thought it impossible for me to find another mate this late in life because women do not tend to wander the way men do. But the goddess sent you here, to find me.”

She shook her head, her jaw clenched tight. “She sent me to this entire village.”

“Have you recognized anyone else from your visions?”

Bridach couldn’t meet his eyes. “I haven’t met many people yet.”

“But you hadn’t seen Gráinne or Olcán or Tadhg.” He grabbed her chin and made her look at him. “The goddess shows you me rather than her own priestess. Might there be significance in that, Bridach?”

Bridach’s eyes watered and she closed them. “She sent me here to prevent a future, not to find my own.”

“You seem very comfortable proclaiming what the goddess means for someone who has not even been fully dedicated.”

“Why does this matter so much to you?” She slapped his hand away. “Yesterday you barely spoke to me and now you would have me believe that the goddess sent me here specifically for you.”

“I told you. It took me a while to get used to the idea of another woman standing where Móirín once stood.”

“And I have gone from repellant to desired mate in the course of a few songs played on the flute. What ever happened to wooing a girl?”

“I would bring you flowers.”

“But?” she asked into the heavy silence.

“I will court you, if you would let me. I felt the need to speak out plainly, though.”

“Because Olcán sat by my side today?” she prompted. It was like talking to a stone.

He could feel his chest rumbling even if he couldn’t hear it. “Because Olcán is faoladh.”

Bridach blinked a few times. How had she not noticed that? She touched her nose. “He is?”

“Yes. And if we are going to be facing a war, I don’t want there to be –,”

She scooted to the edge of the bed. “I should leave now. With the crutch I could manage.”

Cian bodily moved her back into the middle. “You’re not leaving.”

“You can’t stop me.”

Cian leaned over her, his mouth so close that his breath bathed her skin and filled her lungs. His eyes dwelled on her lips and she parted them, letting her tongue slide along the bottom one, lifting her face closer so she could gorge herself on his scent. Her chest heaved as he rubbed his beard against her cheek. “Do you really want to challenge me, lass?” he whispered against her ear.

She grabbed the memory of the nights she had slept by him completely unmoved to gird herself against the need to submit that had grown like an enchanted plant in the last few moments. “Do you want to know why I won’t stay? Because everywhere I linger, destruction follows. Homes, families, lives. Things turn to charcoal and ash if I stay too long. So please, Cian, for your own sake, don’t ask me to stay.” She rolled over and faced the wall. There was an inhale of breath to speak and then silence for a moment. He exhaled loudly and the blanket was pulled up to her shoulder. She breathed again when she heard the door open and shut and tried to go to sleep.

When her eyes opened again the sunlight had moved a full handspan across the blankets. Her bladder demanded attention and as she made water, the scent hit her nose and she almost howled in frustration. Apparently denning up with a male had thrown her into heat several weeks before she would have normally. She hastily put the lid on the pot and grabbed her crutch. She would have to get rid of the urine before Cian smelled it. No wonder he and Olcán had been suddenly attentive today. They must have been scenting the change in her. Even if they hadn’t been aware of it, their bodies had known. No wonder she had been so affected by Cian’s advances. Her body knew exactly what he was.

Bridach reached for the hanging right as she heard the door open. Her hand dropped and she froze in place, hoping that Cian would get whatever he needed and leave without checking on her. Soft footfalls were her only clue as to where he was and she gripped her crutch as a club. The curtain pulled back revealing bright blue eyes and light hair. “Ruarc?” He looked older when he was standing up to her rather than crouched over a bowl of stew.

His eyes flicked to the pile of furs and then back to her. “You’re out of bed.”

She hugged the chamber pot tighter to her, trying to smother the odor with her own body. “Yes.”

His eyes narrowed and he inhaled deeply. His blue eyes went amber as he came closer. “Well I can fix that.” He grabbed her shoulders and forced his mouth onto hers.

Bridach dug her teeth into his lip and ripped. He snarled, his hand going to his bloody lip. “Bitch,” he spat, flecking her face with his blood.

“Not your bitch, Ruarc. You’re a boy.”

“I’m man enough to know you’re in heat. You’ve been lying with my father and he’s too old to mate you himself. I’ve listened in the dark. You two just sleep.” He lunged for her and she lashed out with her crutch. The pot crashed on the floor, splattering them both with her scent as her blow to his shoulder sent him headlong into the bed. She limped for the door as Ruarc leapt off the bed. He crashed into her back and she sprawled to the ground, her leg screaming in pain as the stitches tore. Ruarc growled and his fangs lengthened as he flipped her over.

“Ruarc, stop this! I don’t want you!” She didn’t want him, but her body did. She wanted to lift her haunches in the air and be taken, to feel teeth on her throat and a rough tongue on her shoulder and the feel of a strong chest on her back and a hand in her hair. But it wasn’t Ruarc her body wanted. She wanted a man, and Ruarc was a boy. She would teach the pup a lesson about messing with his elders.

He grabbed her hands and fought them to the floor. He may not be a full man yet, but years helping his father cut trees and haul lumber had left him much stronger than she was. “I want you and I’m going to have you. My father is old and it’s time for a new pack to form.”

Bridach brought up her good knee with all the force she could muster and he howled, falling off of her and curling up on the ground as he clutched himself. She grabbed the crutch from off the floor and brought it down on his head with just enough force to knock him unconscious. Luckily it was almost the same weight as the staff she had trained with, the staff she had left behind.

Panting for breath, she forced herself to her feet. She threw her satchel over her shoulder and grabbed her cloak. Praying to all the faces of the goddess that the villagers were used to a few random howls coming from Cian’s home, she lurched out the door. She tucked the crutch under her arm and hobbled towards the forest. Tears streaked her face by the time she made it to the trees. Just once in her life she would like to have the opportunity to say goodbye.


	5. Chapter 5

Cian shoved the door open. “Ruarc, what’s taking so long?” His bellow died in his mouth as he saw his son sprawled on the floor with blood on his face. It took just a second to take in the scene. The pot shattered on the floor, the hanging torn from its place, the empty bed. He fell to his knees next to Ruarc and then the scent hit him. She’d gone into heat. His prick twitched in his trousers. He slapped Ruarc’s face, seeing him now as the aggressor rather than the defender. Ruarc stirred and Cian slapped him again. “You tried to breed her!”

Ruarc clambered backwards over the floorboards to escape his father’s wrath. “Someone needs to, and you obviously weren’t going to.” He glared at his father though the hair that fell in his face.

Cian growled as he sat back on his heels. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

There was a growl in Ruarc’s voice as well. “You’ve lain next to her for days now and you’ve done nothing.”

“She’s injured, you brute.”

Ruarc gingerly got to his feet, making sure to stay out of his father’s reach. “Even if she weren’t, you didn’t even notice her. You don’t notice anyone since Ma died.” He wiped the blood from his face with the back of his hand.

Cian shook his head as he stood up again. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.” He knew he’d already said that, but he didn’t have time to argue with his stubborn son right now. He needed to go find Bridach before something happened to her. Before someone else found her.

“Don’t I? You don’t see me, you don’t see Laoise. I talk about leaving and you ignore it, but do you know why I have to leave? Because we haven’t gone to a howling since Ma died. How else am I supposed to find a mate, Da? It’s like you died with her for as much care as you show and you’re content to just let me and Laoise die with you.”

“I keep you fed and clothed and a roof over your head.”

“Yeah. I’ve got clothes.” He held out his arm. “And my wrists and elbows hang out the ends because I’ve been wearing the same thing for two years now. I traded for a new pair of boots because the ones I had were too small. Croine made a new dress for Laoise out of one her daughter outgrew. The faoladh eat fish because it’s something I can easily catch because you won’t hunt a deer with me. We don’t got no pigs or even chickens. Gráinne makes sure Laoise takes a bath at least once a month. You stopped being a da the day ma died, so don’t give me shit about trying to start my own pack. I’ve been living without one for years now.”

Cian snarled, his lips pulling back to show fangs rather than teeth. “Don’t you talk to me like that. You’re my son and you owe me respect.”

Ruarc bolted forward and shoved his father back against the support beam for the loft. “I don’t owe you anything.” Spittle flecked his words as he yelled. “You used to be my father, but you haven’t been one in years. Me and Laoise are orphans for all you’re around.”

Cian backhanded Ruarc, snapping his son’s head around. New blood spurted from his nose, streaking his face. “Clean up this mess. I have to go find her before Olcán does. If he came into my house and took her I’ll kill him. And it’s only because you’re my son that you aren’t facing the same threat. So think about that before you spout off that I’m not your da again.”

Cian stormed from his house and pelted across the village to where Olcán lived. He threw open the door but a quick scent made it obvious that neither he nor Bridach were there. Following Olcán’s smell, he headed into the forest. The scent led a familiar path and he found Olcán barefoot with his forehead resting against the yew he was supposed to harvest tomorrow.

Olcán didn’t turn around. “What brings you here, Cian? Preparing for the morn?”

Cian stayed away from the other man, not trusting himself to leave the man uninjured if he had taken her. “Where is she?”

“Bridach? I haven’t seen her since this morning.”

Cian growled and turned on his heel. He should have followed Bridach’s scent from his house, and he would have if he hadn’t been so angry with his son. The arrogance of the child to accuse him of not being a father. That anger had overcome his ability to think straight but he knew what he needed to do now. He needed to find her and claim her. Nothing else mattered. He knew she would give up her idea of leaving once they had mated. She’d obviously never had a mate before or she would know how powerful that bond was.

“Cian,” Olcán called after him, “Did she leave? I thought her leg was not well enough for her to walk.”

He stopped and ran a hand over his beard. “She was attacked. I think she got scared and left.” If she was seriously hurt he was going to beat some manners into his son. There was no excuse for treating a woman like that.

“Who attacked her?”

Cian hesitated to answer, shame burning up his neck. “My son.”

“Ruarc? Why would he…” The words stopped as realization lighted his brown eyes. “She’s gone into heat. That’s what this is about, isn’t it? She’s in heat and you want a new mate.”

Cian stalked back towards the seer. “She’s mine Olcán.”

Olcán didn’t show any fear as he paced towards the pack leader. “You haven’t mated her yet. If you had, you wouldn’t be nearly this worried.”

“Leave her alone. She’s not for you.”

“That’s not your choice, though. It’s hers.”

Cian snarled at him. “Stay away from her.”

“No.” He undid his belt and his robe fell from him, leaving him naked. He shifted into his wolf form and darted into the trees.

Cian swore and stripped out of his clothes as quickly as possible. He shifted and leapt out of his boots as he chased after Olcán, twisting and jumping over the uneven terrain. Up piles of rocks and down into ravines, he pelted through the trees, zig zagging through the underbrush. The smell of crushed foliage lead him ever forward, a layer of green over Olcán’s golden scent, and the startled cry of birds overhead.

He might be a woodsman, but chasing a druid through his own forest was a challenge that might just undo him. As he scrambled up another leaf strewn hillside, he caught a whiff of her. Her normal flame had deepened at one end and sparked at the other and bore just a whiff of copper. She was bleeding.

He growled in his throat as he changed course and chased her smell deeper into the woods. He wasn’t sure how Olcán had missed the path, sparkles the color of her hair dancing in the air, but maybe it was because he hadn’t spent nights with her body warm against his and her aroma soaking into his skin. The trees grew familiar as he tracked her. She hadn’t gotten far from the village and the scent of her strengthened as the trees became family. Her desire filled his lungs and the smell of her blood was the only thing keeping his lust in check.

He hadn’t been around a woman in heat for years. The last time had resulted in Laoise and after that Móirín had disappeared for a week when it was time. She never told him where she went and he never asked. He could have tracked her, but her trust in him had kept him at home with his children. He remembered though the fogged existence of those days, existence shrunk to the feel of skin and the scent of sex and the slick of sweat coating both their bodies and forced himself to concentrate on her alone and hurt and scared.

He spotted her sitting at the base of a tree, her head leaning back against the trunk, one hand pressed against the dark stain on her trousers. She gave no sign that she knew he was there, though she must be able to smell him. He padded the final few steps up to her and whined before he licked her face.

She buried her fingers in the scruff of his neck but didn’t open her eyes. “I’m sorry I hurt Ruarc.”

His cock demanded attention as he scanned her, looking for more injuries. “Don’t worry about him. Any new injuries or just tore the old one?”

“Same one,” she muttered.

“Gráinne’s gonna get tired of doing your laundry, you know. Come on, let’s get you back.”

Her fingers dug into his hand as she finally looked at him. “No.”

“You can’t stay here.”

She lifted her throat to him. “Don’t make me go back there. Not while I’m in heat.”

“What do you want me to do? You need a healer and some place to sleep and food.”

“No.” She reached for him again and grimaced. A fresh pulse of blood stained her trousers.

Cian rubbed his face as his urges pulled him in different directions. “I need to get that bleeding stopped. Help me with your trousers.”

She rolled over on her side as he tugged at the cloth, working it down around her knees. Her thigh was streaked with blood. The stitches had torn and the wound had ripped open, looking even worse than before as blood seeped from it like a clogged spring. He pressed his palm firmly against it, trying to stanch the flow of blood. “We have to fix this and I can’t do it by myself. You need Gráinne.”

“Then go get her. I’ll be right here when you come back, I promise. I just don’t want to be around that many men while I’m like this.” She put one hand on his over the wound and one hand on the back of his neck and pulled him closer. “Please,” she whispered against his lips. “For me.”

He surged forward, crushing his mouth against her, knocking her head against the trunk. She didn’t cry out, just wrapped her arm around his neck tighter as he forced her mouth open and plunged inside. She bit his tongue, scraping her teeth over it as it withdrew, biting again at his lips. “Say it. Olcán’s out here looking for you too. If he gets back here before I do,” he kissed her again, his teeth pulling at her lip. “Say it, Bridach.”

Her chest heaved as his fingers pulled at her hair, holding her face where he could look in her eyes. “You I choose and you only. Fur or skin, tooth or fang. Before all the faces of the Goddess, you are chosen, mate and pack.”

Light flared from under their joined hands, piercing bright like lightning and throwing the forest into reverse, dark sky and white trees. A gout of green flames enveloped their hands and then disappeared. Both of them yanked back their hands and blinked several times, trying to see again after the brilliant light. The blood was gone. Her leg was perfectly clean and where the ragged wound had been, there was the image of a raven all in blue. They were both staring at it in shock when Olcán padded up. He sniffed at the raven marking and then howled, a long cry that echoed back in the distance. Bridach heard more cries answer him. She recognized Ruarc and Laoise’s voices in their howls, and more from animals she didn’t yet know. When the howling chorus ended, Olcán turned to leave.

“Olcán. I’m taking her to the cave where the rowans grow. She doesn’t want to be in the village. Ask Gráinne to watch Laoise and Ruarc for me. I’ll be splitting time between her and home.”

The big grey wolf nodded and then silently walked into the trees.

Cian didn’t want to discuss the raven mark or the lights or fire. He didn’t want to talk at all. About anything. He scooped up Bridach and  carried her towards the cave. The words were good, but he wanted to claim her on a more primal level.

“I can walk,” she said, though her actions belied her words. She kept her arms around his neck and nuzzled his throat, tasting him, salt and sawdust, even suckling on the thin skin over his pulse. Cian didn’t bother responding to her words, concentrating on getting her to the cave instead of taking her in the bushes and breeding her there. He was uncomfortably hard between his legs and the way she was sucking on his ear wasn’t helping matters. Finally, though it couldn’t have been more than a few minutes, he found the cave opening. Brushing aside the hanging vines that partially obscured the entrance, he stooped and carried her further inside.

Cian bent to place her on the furs that had been left inside the cave by children and lovers over the years and she didn’t let him stand, pulling him down on top of her. His fingers scrabbled at her trousers, shoving them down and not caring that they got caught on her boots. She pulled off her tunic as he pressed a hand between her thighs, covering his fingers in her wetness and then smearing it across his cock. She wrenched her mouth from his, panting as she forced him up enough for her to turn over, raising her rear and rubbing it against his groin. She whined like a starving pup until she felt him bend over her, sink his teeth into her shoulder, and shove himself inside.

Her cry echoed in the cave as Cian began thrusting into her. She braced herself on her elbows, pushing back, frantically rutting against him like she had an itch that only he could scratch. He grabbed a handful of her hair and twisted her neck to claim her mouth in what could almost be called a kiss.

Tongues lapped at each other as they panted into each other’s mouths. Tension swelled in his belly and in his balls, filling him the need to claim her. It was a need, one he no longer could control. He’d forgotten the intensity of a mating rut, the way Cian disappeared and it was completely physical. If someone had pulled him off of her right now he would have maimed the interloper in an attempt to get back to her, to finish what he had started. This was life and he was its slave. He let go of her hair to rub her clit. He didn’t need to, but his da had taught him that the surest way to strengthen the mating bond was to make sure she enjoyed the rut as much as he did. And so he rubbed her as he fucked her, waiting to hear her howling cry of pleasure, and only once the echoes of it had faded did he release his seed into her belly. He would get a child on her, and the pack would grow.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation guide
> 
> Sí an Bhrú – Shee an Vru

The rut was done for now, but they laid on the furs together with their legs entwined, kissing and touching. They would mate again soon but for the moment they just needed to be together. Bridach kept smelling and licking him, finally letting herself revel in his presence and Cian’s hands travelled over her skin, exploring the body that he hadn’t previously known. Their world had shrunk to this cave warmed by their bodies filled with their scent and the smell of sex and sweat.

Over time touches grew more insistent and Bridach whimpered before nipping at Cian’s throat.

He had never completely lost his erection but her desperate sounds had him fully hard again. “You need it again already?”  

She whined and he rolled her over onto her stomach. Calloused hands gripped her hips and pulled them up and he sank into her with a groan. Bridach gasped as he bottomed out in her, but then pushed back against him, trying heedlessly to take him even deeper. This wasn’t about pleasure, not really, though Cian had been good enough to see to hers. This was about him filling the vast emptiness inside her. She needed him. She may have considered lying with him before, but now there were no second thoughts. He was as vital, _this_  was as vital as clean water and air. No sex had ever been like this, even the one time she had lain with a faoladh. This was a forest fire and it raged out of her control and everything he did just made it burn hotter.

>< 

Bridach woke to the feel of Cian climbing back into their nest of furs. “Where did you go?” She rolled over so her face would be pressed against his neck.

“I heard someone so I went to check. Olcán brought my clothes and food.”

She had no interest in his clothing. She preferred him naked. The mention of food stirred a hunger that Cian couldn’t satisfy. “That was nice of him.”

“It’s his duty.”

“To bring you food?” She took the basket from him. The fresh bread smelled almost as good as Cian.

“To bring  _us_  food. The pack will keep us fed while we’re mating.”

“I didn’t know that.”

Cian sat back against the wall of the cave. “When did you lose your pack?”

“My parents died when I was four. The new pack leader let me stay, but at my first bleeding I left. I didn’t much fancy any of the men that were eyeing me trice, human or wolf, so I went to Sí an Bhrú and joined the priestesses there. I’ve managed a howling or two since then, but I haven’t had any contact other than that.”

“No wonder you don’t know much.”

Her lips pulled back from her teeth and she stifled the growl in her throat. “I know enough to tell you that Ruarc needs another lesson in Choice before the next howling or he’ll come away with worse than what I did to him.”

Cian ducked his head to her. “I’ve never told him about it.”

“You never…” She cuffed him behind the ear. “How could you let him be around females without teaching him the Rules?”

“We haven’t gone to a howling since Móirín died, and the only other female in the village is Laoise. I didn’t think I needed to yet.”

“Well, there’s need. The villages will be coming together to fight this, and he’ll meet women, both faoladh and not. They’re rules for both and he needs lessons.”

“He’s just a boy.”

“No. He was just a boy when Móirín died. He’s older than you were when you two Chose.”

His head snapped up and he regarded her with curiosity. “How do you know how old I was when I Chose?”

Bridach pulled over the basket of food and started sorting through it. She handed a loaf of bread to Cian. “Gráinne told me about you and Móirín.”

“Her and her chitter chatter. Worse than a squirrel when I dislodge one of their hoards.”  He tore a hunk off of the loaf and handed it back to her and she gave him a wedge of cheese. “Eat. You need to keep up your strength.”

She smiled as she bit into one of the strawberries. “You think so, do you?”

“Aye. This is just the first day, lass.” Her eyes dropped to his cock and found it jutting out, proud and strong. “I’m nowhere near done with you yet.”

>< 

There was no light seeping in from the cave entrance when Bridach heard Cian fumbling into his clothes and then sneaking out. “Where are you going?” she murmured as she raked her hair back from her face.

“I have a tree to take this morning and the ceremony starts in an hour. I’ll be back, just go back to sleep.”

Bridach pushed away the furs and searched for her clothes in the darkness. “You said I could come. And now that I’m not hurt, I can walk there.” She was no longer wounded, but she found that her muscles ached from all the unexpected activity.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come with me, Bridach.”

She couldn’t even see a silhouette of him to judge his body language. “Why not? Am I going to distract you?”

“There will be others there. Olcán, Ruarc, men from the village.”

“Then I shall stay downwind and out of sight. Please, Cian. I need to see this.”

He couldn’t tell her no, not with the way his body was already demanding to couple with her again. Her scent made all of his better instincts fade away. “Fine. But keep your cloak up over your hair. Anyone could spot those flames from a thousand paces.”

Bridach followed Cian through the forest. Birds called back and forth in the grey light and the trees whispered as they passed. “Why are we going in a circle?”

“I’m walking you a good distance around the tree. No sense in you being downwind if you scent right through the middle of the site.”

“Oh.” She watched him sniff the air and then keep walking. Finally he stopped.

“Here.” He pointed at an old tree, its trunk fire-scarred and gaping, forming a crevice about her size. “You can see the ceremony from here, but be quiet.” He tugged the hood of her cloak forward.

She kept herself from kissing him, knowing that it wouldn’t end with a kiss, and curled up in the nook provided by the tree, pulling her cloak around her. The first to arrive was Ruarc, hauling his father’s tools. Neither man spoke to each other as they checked over their implements, making sure they were sharp and clean.

Olcán arrived next. She didn’t know it was him at first. His hair was swept up and back, and bright green leaves stood throughout it mixed with feathers of birds she had never seen. His face was dyed with woad and his shoulders as well, streaking erratically down his stomach until his skin gave way to a loincloth. His legs were tattooed from ankle to thigh in designs she wanted to see better. A woman she didn’t know arrived next, the Horned One’s antlers tattooed in black on her forehead, and her hair wrapped around her throat like a snake. Another came with hair dark as coal and a livid scar streaking across one eye and down his cheek, wearing nothing but a robe of fur. Gráinne arrived, her hair swirling about her as always, looking as ethereal as ever. Her gown was of sheer silver that shone even in the dim light of dawn.

This was not the circle she had expected. At Sí an Bhrú everyone matched. The robes were linen, dyed into the correct shade for the season. Here one woman was heavily pregnant, her belly and breasts decorated with swirling lines that only emphasized her fecundity, her hair pulled back in coils, and a stack of gold bracelets on one wrist. The man next to her had skin dark like ashes, and flecks of metal covered his skin, shimmering as he walked. Wreaths of flowers and berries were worn in the hair and like clothing, dripping with ivy. Antlers of different sizes sprung from brows. A man wore a wreath of holly on his horns, the red berries standing out like drops of blood. His skin was stippled like old bark, and in his hands he carried a sapling. The thirteen took their places around the yew, and then Gráinne called to the Goddess, and in their voices she answered.

Even outside the circle she could feel the power. It flowed like moonlight over the gathering, twisting and turning and knotting them together. It was all she could not to throw herself into that light and beg for it to take her back, and she bit her cloak to keep from joining in the song. They welcomed the sun and the rain, earth and spirit and the tree welcomed them in response. She had never heard a tree before, but Cian was right – this one called to them, warned them, turned the milky light amber and indigo as it spoke. The voice thrummed through the earth in words she didn’t understand but in meaning comprehensible. Her thigh throbbed where the raven had appeared and the light pulsed in time with the beat. Like distant drums they rattled her bones, calling her closer. She snuck out of her little hiding place and crept forward, drawn as strongly by the power flowing around that circle as she had been by the need to mate with Cian.

And then the tree said her name.

The heads all turned to look at her. Cian started towards her but the two members of the circle nearest her beckoned her forward and she rose from her crouch and stepped forward. The same viridian light that had marked her thigh the day before burst from her as she stepped into the circle and she was clad in her novitiate robe, palest green for the new spring, but slit up the leg so when she walked, the raven marking was fully visible. The holly king handed her the sapling and she took it up to the yew and placed it at its roots.

“Bearer of the Raven, you have been chosen by the Morrigan for the coming war. You shall protect the warriors and be Chooser of the Dead.” The tree embraced her as it spoke, ancient branches creaking as they twisted to brush over her skin and catch in her hair.

She did not want this. She wanted to run.  Her eyes flew to Cian who was watching her with a completely neutral expression, and then the circle constricted and the hands of the druids were upon her, and the light flowed into her as they chanted, and it was thick like honey as it glowed iridescent and beautiful. Gráinne leaned over and kissed her brow. “Welcome home, sister.” And she sagged in their arms and slept.


	7. Chapter 7

Bridach woke with the familiar feel of Laoise curled up next to her on the furs. The sunlight managed to illuminate the cave enough that she could see the little girl using her long green skirt as an improvised blanket. Bridach edged one of the furs over the child and laid back, staring at the craggy roof of the cave as she tried to remember what had happened.

The light from that morning filled her mind, glowing and iridescent and pouring into her like a vessel. She held up her hands to examine them, half expecting light to shoot out from her fingertips, but they didn’t look any different. They were just her hands. Dirt was embedded under her nails and the scar on the back of the right one was still there. They didn’t look like hands Morrigan would choose. And how was she supposed to protect warriors and be Chooser of the Dead? How would she possibly know which of the fallen spirits to reward? How would she see them? How would she talk to them? She dropped her hands again. She would not say that the Goddess had made a mistake in choosing her but she knew that she was not equal to the path she had been placed on.

Laoise’s head popped up as Bridach’s hands dropped back onto the furs. “You’re awake!”

Bridach turned her head and stared into big dark eyes. “Yes, I’m awake little child. What are you doing out here in the forest?”

“I came with Gráinne to bring you breakfast and then I followed my memory back.”

Bridach sat up and smoothed the wisps of hair surrounding the child’s face back from her cheeks. “You’re a very smart girl, but isn’t someone going to be missing you?”

Laoise grabbed her hands and held them between her small chubby fingers. “Are you leaving us?”

Bridach focused on the near future as she answered. “No.”

A dimple appeared in her cheek as she frowned. “Then why did you run away? Why are you sleeping out here? This is not as nice as a bed and it smells strange, too.”

Bridach panicked for a moment as she looked into the concerned little face. “Well, it’s a grown up lady wolf thing. Someday when you’re a grown up lady wolf, you may want to spend a few days in the forest as well.”

Laoise let go of her hands and tugged at the ragged end of her braid. “Does my da not love me anymore?”

Bridach scooped the child up and sat her in her lap. “What? Of course your da loves you.”

“He didn’t come home last night for supper and I haven’t seen him today and it smells like him here. Does my da love you now instead of me?”

Bridach kissed the top of the little girl’s head to hide the tears that had sprung up in her eyes. “Your da loves you. He is very busy at work on a special project, but I think he’s probably hungry. Would you like to take some of this food and go visit him with me?”

“Yes!” She scrambled to her feet and Bridach followed her out of the cave. It was chill in the thin robe, especially with her arms bare and her leg uncovered. At least she had been given sandals. She carried a jug of water on one hip and the basket of food on the other, while Laoise followed after her carrying a pouch of dried fruit as she insisted on helping.

It didn’t take long to find Cian and Ruarc and several other men. The sound of axes echoed through the trees, and then yells before a branch crashed to the ground. They were still in the process of taking down the tree. Several of the large branches had been removed and were being stripped of bark by smaller branches by young boys and the older men were working their way through the enormous trunk. Work slowed to a halt as first Cian and Ruarc and then the other men turned to look at her. The breeze brushed against her back as Cian put down his axe and came towards her.

“What are you doing here?” He gripped her arm and pulled her back into the trees.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t realize it would be anyone but you and Ruarc, but Laoise was missing her da so I thought I would let her help bring you something to eat.”

Cian’s eyes fell to his daughter’s upturned face. He hadn’t even noticed her there before, clinging to Bridach’s skirt. “Well, lassie, did you bring me a snack?”

Laoise held up the small pouch. “Sweet raisins.”

“And you know those are my favorite.” He held out his hand to her and she grinned and poured a few into his palm.

“Ruarc, come eat.”

Ruarc’s ears pricked from her call, but his eyes flicked to his da’s face, waiting for his father’s permission before he approached. Cian nodded and the young man came forward. His lip had scabbed over and he had bruises under both eyes. She handed him the basket of food.  “Eat and keep an eye on Laoise for a minute. I need to talk to your da.”

This time Bridach pulled Cian deeper into the woods. When she stopped and faced him, Cian closed his hands over her breasts. Her nipples pressed against the finely woven linen and hardened as he plucked them. “Couldn’t wait for me to come see you again?”

Bridach’s eyes fluttered as he squeezed her breasts. “That’s not why I’m here.”

“Isn’t it? You need to be bred so bad even the humans can smell it on you,” he growled against her throat. His hand found the slit in her skirt and grabbed her rear, pulling her flush against him. His hard cock prodded her belly and she rubbed her face against his, savoring the rasp of his beard against her skin.

“Laoise thinks you’re abandoning her for me,” she managed to say as he walked her backwards around a pile of boulders that shielded them from everyone else.

His hand slid between her thighs and he prodded her with a finger and then two. “That’s nonsense.”

Bridach rubbed helplessly against his hand. “You weren’t there for supper, you didn’t sleep there, you weren’t there when she woke up,” she whined softly, aware how well sound travelled, as he pulled his fingers from her. He yanked up her skirt to her waist and pushed her to her knees. “She needs her da.”

Cian knelt behind her, yanked down the front of his trousers, and pushed inside her. “Right now I need this. You need this.”

Bridach tumbled onto her hands as he thrust hard into her body. He drove all thought from her brain as the feel and smell of him overwhelmed every other impulse with the urge to grind against his body. His hand closed over her mouth to keep her quiet and he bit his lips to keep his grunts from echoing off the rocks and trees. His hand worked furiously between her legs until he felt her body go taut and then he emptied himself in her again.

He panted as he pushed himself off of her and refastened his trousers. Bridach sat and rubbed the dirt and decaying leaves off of her knees, digging out a small pebble that had embedded itself in her skin. “Go eat with your children.”

“They’re fine.” He grabbed her hair and pulled her in for a kiss.

Bridach succumbed to the feel of his lips for a few moments but then pushed him away. “Your children need their da. Go eat, and when you are done working, come to me at the cave.”

He tugged her into another kiss and even with his seed dripping from her she had to fight to keep from writhing against him. “Go sleep. You won’t be getting any tonight.”

>< 

He came to her that evening and they mated again before she made him go have supper with his family. He brought food back for her that night as the moon rose over the trees and he let her eat before they mated again. Sleep was sporadic, minutes grabbed between their insistent need for each other. They ventured out in the dark hours to go find water. Not wanting to bother with shoes, they turned into wolves and chased each other through the trees and when they got to the spring, they slaked their thirst before mating again in the moonlight. Bridach howled as she came and so did Cian, and their voices were answered by others deeper in the forest.

Bridach shooed him home in the dawn light to breakfast with his children and he made his way back to her before going to the yew. The day passed much the same as the one previous except that Laoise did not visit, and she slept and fretted about the coming war in equal measures. Cian arrived in the evening, and did not protest about having to go home for supper or when she woke him to send him home for breakfast. It was the fourth day, after sending Cian to the yew and sleeping in the pile of furs that she woke and her nose tickled. The cave smelled different. She went outside and made water to be certain, but she already knew. Her heat was over.

She quickly donned her dress and sandals – her other clothes had never been found – and gathered the empty food baskets and her satchel before she headed back to the village. She left the baskets on the table in Cian’s house and then wandered through the village until she caught Gráinne’s scent and followed it to her house. She knocked on the door and waited.

Gráinne opened the door. “I was wondering when you would appear. Heat over?”

Bridach nodded. “I need to ask a favor.”

“Whatever is needed, sister.”

Her hand spread over her stomach. “Can I live here with you?”

>< 

Bridach sat at the small table in Gráinne’s house watching the woman bustle around. There was a plate of food in front of her but she didn’t feel like eating. Gráinne hadn’t given her an answer, just beckoned for her to come in and pointed at the chair.

Gráinne put two mugs of steeped herbs on the table and then sat across from her as she spooned honey into the steaming liquid. “Why will you not live with him?”

“Why should I? I am healed now. He has no more responsibility to me. And if the Morrigan has chosen me then I think here with her priestess is where I should be until I learn what it is she would have me do.”

Gráinne nodded thoughtfully as she covered the honey jar. “Your first lesson is to stop lying.” She took a sip of her tea. “Why will you not live with him?”

Bridach stirred her drink, letting the scent of the herbs clear her mind. “It is not a lie. I do not understand why the Morrigan has called me. I do not know what to do.”

“And that requires you to sleep here instead of at the side of your mate?”

“He is not my mate,” she snapped.

Gráinne frowned. “And I told you your first lesson is to stop lying. If you will be so willfully disobedient to such a simple thing, how can you expect to learn anything difficult?”

Bridach took a sip of the tea to calm herself. “I am not his mate, Gráinne.”

“I may not have your nose, child, but I can smell the Choice on you. You bound yourself to him.”

 “He didn’t Choose me in return.” The hurt had lain quiet while she had given in to the compulsive desire to mate. Now that the heat no longer clouded her thoughts and her vision, it throbbed worse than the stab wound had. She looked down at her chest, expecting to see it broken open and bleeding from charred skin, and wondered that she continued to breathe like normal.

The hot liquid sloshed on to Gráinne’s hand as she set the mug down too quickly. “He didn’t Choose you?”

“No. It makes no difference in a heat, but that is over, and it makes a difference now.” She resumed drinking her tea to have something to do as Gráinne sat silently watching her.

“So,” she finally said, “he has not Chosen you. And what of the child in your belly?

“There is no way of knowing yet–,”

“You lie to yourself now. You look within and you will know. There is life beginning already.”

She already knew she was pregnant. There had been the slightest change to her scent today, small enough that if she hadn’t been searching for it she wouldn’t have noticed and as her mind had dwelled on the light that had filled her that morning, there had been another light, small as a star, glowing inside her own flame tinged aura yet separate and flecked with green. “And there is death just ahead as well. I am the Chooser of Death, Gráinne, and I Chose him.”

Even without shaking her head, Gráinne’s hair swayed in disagreement. “You are tying yourself in foolish knots. That is not what that title means.”

“I know the bard tales as well as you, sister. I also know that I have seen him dead in vision.”

Everything stilled. Even the birds outside fell silent. “You saw Cian dead.”

Bridach met the solemn eyes that shone black in a pale face. “Yes. I had to come warn him.” It hadn’t been a choice. When her eyes had refocused after seeing him fall to the ground and gasp out his last breath around the gaping wound in his throat, she had been bound on her journey, like a geas had been placed on her.

“You didn’t even know him and yet you turned your back on the Goddess and came here from Sí an Bhrú to warn him.” Her hair stirred again and the sound of children at play returned.

Bridach shivered, feeling prickles all over her skin like an army of bugs was tramping across her. “I have made many choices in my life.”

“And now you are so proud that you will not live with the man you have Chosen.”

Bridach slammed the mug down, not caring that the contents splashed over her hand. “He didn’t Choose me back, Gráinne! Is it proud to want the man you live with to want you? I won’t be the cause of those children taking another hurt. They need their da and I don’t. I can get on just fine without him. I won’t interfere with their last few months with him.”

“So quickly you turn from maiden to mother to crone.”

“I am not a crone. No more am I a mother or a maiden.”

Gráinne reached across the table and took Bridach’s hand and turned it over so it rested palm up in her own. She traced a spiral against the skin. “You’re an interesting mix, sister. Not a maiden anymore though still young and unwed, mother to children you have not born while wishing away the one you carry in your womb, your future filled with imminent death but without a grey hair or a wrinkle. You are all three, and nothing at all.” She smeared her fingers across the drawing, blurring out the ghostly line.

Bridach took her hand back. “And you are a scold.”

“Visions show a possible future and you know that as well, or you would not have come here to change what you had seen. Why will you not live with him?”

The third time the question had been asked of her and this time it hung in the air like Gráinne had carved runes into the wind. She dropped her head. “He does not love me, Gráinne.”

“How do you know? Have you asked him?”

She shook her head, not looking at the other woman. “I have seen him look at someone with love, and he does not look at me like that.”

Gráinne snorted, the exhalation causing ripples in her tea. “The look of a man for his children is different than the look he gives a woman.” She took another sip.

“Not his children, Gráinne.”

“Oh.” She sat back in her chair and clasped her hands in front of her. “You know him,” she said gently.

Bridach nodded. “It was a very long time ago, when I was still a girl and he only half a man, but his beard had started coming in. It was at a howling, and the fires were high and the night was big and everyone was seeing if they could outhowl the sparks flying moonward. It was the first howling I had been to in three years, and I got so caught up in it that I got lost and I couldn’t smell my way home with all the competing scents in the air and he saw how frightened I was and helped me find my way back to my pack. Him and Móirín both. I’ve seen the way he looks at someone he loves, and that’s not how he looks at me, Gráinne.”

“And still you walked across half an island to try and keep him safe.”

“I made my Choice.” She had; she’d just made it years before she had whispered the words against his face.

Gráinne closed her eyes. The air rippled and surged and Bridach sat motionless. The feel of the Goddess wasn’t one you forgot. The hairs on her arms stood on end as she waited for Gráinne to finish. When she spoke her voice sounded like it was coming from inside a cave instead of her own body. “You need to go home to him, Bridach.”

“He doesn’t love me,” she pleaded.

“You Chose him, mate and pack. You Chose those children and Olcán right alongside Cian, and those children need you. And if you cannot keep Cian from death, you will send him to his reward and those children will need you in a way you cannot comprehend right now. You have made your Choice, child, and it binds your soul even before the call of the Goddess. Go to your home.”

Bridach wanted to ignore this instruction but the same geas that had brought her here to warn him wouldn’t let her leave him yet. It wrapped around her neck like a torc of gold. “And what about teaching me what the Morrigan wants of me?” She yearned for some respite.

Gráinne looked out the window and smiled. “We will inquire together, but not today.” She stood up and headed for the door.

“Why not?”

She opened the door. “Because I just saw your daughter run by the window chasing a pig.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation Guide
> 
> Cairell CA rel
> 
> Dealla D’YAL a
> 
> Úna OO na

Cian pushed open the door to his home and saw Bridach stacking firewood against a wall. The dread that had clogged his throat since he had smelled the empty cave dissolved. “You’re here.”

She stood up and slapped her hands together, brushing off the clinging pieces of bark and leaf mould. “Where else would I be?”

He scratched at his beard. “I half expected that you would flee now that your heat wasn’t keeping you here and your leg was healed.”

“No. I made my Choice,” she prompted him.

“That you did.”

His casual agreement was like a new wound. “Unless you would prefer me to go, of course.” She half hoped he would reject her and she could leave the casual cruelty of his benign care for her.

“Why would I want that?” He pulled her in for a kiss but Bridach turned her head.

Of course he wouldn’t want that. He was getting a lover and a cook and a mother for his children. What more could he possibly want than that? “I think we should talk.”

Cian sank onto the bench. He remembered that phrase from his marriage. It never boded well for him. “About what?”

“The light. The raven tattoo. Being healed. Being chosen by the Morrigan. What I’m supposed to do for clothing since all mine disappeared. Take your pick.”

Cian didn’t want to talk about things he didn’t understand and the only part of what had happened in the forest over the last several days that he understood was what had happened in the cave. “I like you in that dress.” The fabric was sheer enough that he could see the shadow of her nipples even when they weren’t hard, and her bare arms and leg made him want to touch her.

Bridach could see where he was looking and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, it’s cold, and completely impractical for gardening or fishing or cleaning this house or any of the other things I might find myself doing.” It already bore smudges of dirt and the hem edged towards brown. “Also, do you even have a garden? Or cows or sheep or pigs or anything like that? I’m really not sure how I am supposed to be feeding everyone with no source of food.” The hour between helping Laoise take the pig back to its owner and Cian coming home had been filled mostly with her staring at the fire and seeing all of her new responsibilities and no way to fulfill them. She had gone out and gathered firewood so the empty pots and jugs and baskets would stop staring at her.

The hair on the back of Cian’s neck stood on end. “We managed.”

Bridach added a few sticks to the fire to give herself an excuse to turn her back on him. She could feel sorry for him, obviously lost in grief for his dead wife, but the children had born the burden of his retreat from the living. Laoise ran half wild, tamed only by the love of the women in the village. Ruarc spent every day with this ghost of a man who didn’t see him for the man he was becoming. He couldn’t see her, either, and the heart that she offered him. “So no garden or sheep or pigs.”

Heat rose up the back of his neck and turned his ears red. “We had a garden. Still have it, I guess. I didn’t have the time for it so I let it go wild. Haven’t kept animals either. No time. But the pigs should be birthing soon. You could trade for a few piglets once they’re weaned. Some sheep as well perhaps.”

She turned to him and looked deliberately around the mostly empty room before she answered him. “Trade with what?”

A growl vibrated in his throat. “I’m more than just a tree cutter. I have goods that we can trade or I can make something special if needed. I’m not poor.”

“Just neglectful.”

Cian lurched to his feet and yanked Bridach to him. “Are we back to that? Now that you’re here, I’ll have more time to spend with my children.”

Her hair sparked in the firelight and she smelled of anger rather than fear. “Well, you are teaching Ruarc about Choice tonight.”

“You think to give me orders? About my own children?”

“I made my Choice, mate and pack. They’re my responsibility now as well as yours, and I am your equal in all things. Just because I bared my hindquarters to you, don’t think I’ll bare my throat to you as well.”

Cian slammed a hand on the table and left without another word.

Bridach looked around the room again. Everything cried out for attention but the first thing that needed tending to was their food supply. Living off of neighborly kindness was going to come to an end, and for that, she would need Gráinne’s help.

>< 

It was almost dark when he and Ruarc arrived back at home that night. He didn’t recognize the smell leaking from under the door along with the firelight and opened the door to find Bridach scooping out servings of stew into bowls and putting them on the table next to a plate of oat cakes. Ruarc looked at his father to see what he was going to do about this unexpected turn of events. He had been grumbling all the way home about him being head of the pack and Bridach needing to learn where she fit and now there was food that smelled like it belonged at a feast. Cian shut the door behind him, sat down at the table and pulled one of the bowls over to him. “This smells good. Where did you get it?”

Bridach looked at the cauldron hanging over the fire and then back at her mate. “I cooked it.”

“You cooked it.” He prodded it with a spoon, trying to identify what was giving it the delicious aroma. “Is that meat?”

She poured mugs of water for everyone and set them on the table. It looked like Cian hadn’t kept up with replacing jugs as they broke. Discovering who in the village was the potter got added to her list of things to do tomorrow. “Luckily one of the little boys lent me a slingshot and I found some rabbits. Also, Laoise and I need slingshots of our own. It’s ridiculous she doesn’t have one.”

Ruarc hurried to the table and grabbed a bowl. The thought of meat rather than fish overrode his shame. “And the other stuff?” Cian asked.

“Carrots, turnips, garlic, some dill. I did some weeding in the garden. And there’s butter for the oat cakes if you want that with the honey. I’m glad you managed to care for the skeps. They’re in much better shape than the rest of the garden.”

The only reason he had gone into the garden since Móirín had died had been to tend the skeps and harvest the honey. Móirín had hated gardening, complaining about grubbing around in the dirt like a badger instead of hunting their food like wolves. “You didn’t find butter in the garden.”

She put the bowl of fresh butter on the table and then sat now that everyone had food. “No. But I traded for some milk with other vegetables I harvested.” She blew on her bowl of stew to cool it and took a bite.

Ruarc cut off a chunk of butter and slathered it over an oatcake. The happy sound that came from him as he stuffed it in his mouth almost made up for the grilling Cian was giving her. Cian finally took a bite of the stew and smiled as the flavors hit his tongue. He hadn’t eaten meat in human form in too long. He grabbed an oatcake and buttered it. “You had a busy afternoon.”

Bridach relaxed a little at Cian’s approval. She buttered an oatcake and drizzled honey over it before setting it on the edge of Laoise’s bowl. “You need to make Dealla a new loom for her daughter who is getting wed. I told her you would come by in the morning before you went to the yew.”

Cian dropped his spoon. “You’re giving me chores like a pup now?”

“You said I should trade, and I did.” She drizzled honey over another oatcake, this time for herself.

“And what did you get out of the deal?”

“Six piglets once they’re weaned. That will give Laoise and I time to repair the enclosure to keep them from getting out.”

He picked the spoon back up. Móirín had never enjoyed keeping livestock either. Mutton for dinner usually meant one of the sheep had stepped on her foot. The only traditionally feminine activity she had enjoyed had been spinning and weaving. “Anything else you volunteered me to do?”

“Úna wants a table and two benches. She’s tired of sitting on logs around a fire.” Cian was correct about not being poor. That was one thing she had noticed as Gráinne had taken her around the village. He may have not cleaned very often, but the furnishings in his home were some of the finest in the village. There were shelves for storage, a table and benches for eating, a wooden bed frame instead of mats on the ground. There was an abundance of furs, she suspected from when Móirín used to hunt, and bowls for each person to eat from instead of dipping into the same pot. There was an iron plate so she didn’t have to cook on a stone and there was even a kiln she could use with hot rocks to cook bread. Everyone seemed glad to see that Cian had found a new mate. “It’s about time,” was heard from several people, and they had been generous in their trade deals to help her establish a household again. A few of the women asked her to let Laoise come visit, even now that she had a new ma. The child was beloved even if she did have a tendency to chase the animals and chatter endlessly.

“And what did you get in return?”

“Six sheep, all yearlings, and three cows, one in milk and two weaned calves, so I can start making butter and cheese of our own and my own wool though I haven’t looked to see what state you kept the loom in yet. Next year we should be able to raise our own meat.”

Cian glanced over at the loom that stood unused against one wall. It probably needed to be oiled as well. He hadn’t touched it in years and had scolded Laoise to tears the one time he found her playing with it. “Well, that will give Ruarc some things to work on.”

“And Cairell is going to put our farmland under barley, oats, wheat and rye. Why do you have farmland?”

His spoon clattered against the edge of his bowl again. “You just gave the land to him to use?”

“He’s going to pay us with a quarter of the harvest this year and a third in each following year. How am I supposed to brew ale with no grain?” She smiled sweetly at him. She had no idea how to brew ale, but Gráinne had promised to teach her. 

That calmed him down; he missed having ale in the house.  He picked up the spoon and shoveled in another mouthful. “My father was a farmer,” he said, sucking in air to cool the food.

Laoise had been impatiently fidgeting for so long that she couldn’t withhold her excitement any more. “Am I really to get a slingshot of my own, Da?”

Cian grinned as she bounced in place. “Yes. I’ll make sure you and Bridach both get slingshots if it means more meals like this one.”

“I helped dig up the carrots. And Bridach said that when we get the pigs I can name them all and she said she’d teach me how to find rabbits and maybe we can get some chickens and then we can have eggs some times when we don’t want them to turn into chickens but she said chickens are very expensive so we might not get chickens for a long time and I helped make the butter in a big jug and I had to shake it and shake it and shake it but it’s pretty good, right Da?”

Ruarc sat back down from filling his bowl again and grabbed another oatcake. Cian took the last one on the plate before Ruarc ate that one as well. They were both putting in hard labor cutting the yew into usable pieces and Cian remembered what it was like to be a boy of that age, driven by hungers of belly and balls. Maybe Bridach was right. Maybe he and Ruarc should have a talk tonight. “It’s very good, Laoise. You did a lot of work helping Bridach today.”

“Yeah. It tastes good, Laoise.” His head was bent over his bowl so he missed the startled looks both Cian and Bridach gave him.

Laoise lit up at the unexpected praise. “If you want you can help me name the pigs.”

He looked up from his bowl and gave her a crooked smile, his lip tugged sideways by the scab. “I’ll name one. The rest are yours.”

Laoise babbled on about possible names for the piglets as everyone else ate. She managed to eat her own food as well, though honey made both her cheeks and her hands sticky by the time Ruarc and Cian had scraped the last spoonfuls of stew from the cauldron. Cian put his empty bowl and spoon in the empty pot. “Everyone put your dishes in. Ruarc and I are going to haul this down to the river and give everything a proper scrub and a wash.”

Bridach looked at him, an eyebrow raised and Cian nodded and then lifted his chin, baring his throat to her for just a moment. “And you and I, little girl,” she said to Laoise, “are going to figure out how to get your face clean.”

Laoise was asleep by the time the men made it back from the river and their long conversation. A pot with the morning’s porridge in it was nestled in the banked fire where it would cook through the night. Bridach was already in bed. Ruarc stopped next to the hanging that he had fixed. “I’m sorry, Bridach.”

She could see him silhouetted against the hanging by the firelight. “You know better now. Just make sure you remember for the howling.”

His head jerked upward. “We’re going to a howling?”

“Of course. With a war coming we’ll need to gather and plan.” She didn’t feel like mentioning the howling that would happen after the war, where they would gather to mourn their dead.

She heard Ruarc’s feet on the ladder up into the loft and then Cian pulled the hanging aside and sat on the edge of the bed. “Any other plans you want to tell me about before you tell my children?” He tugged off his boots.

“No. I think that is the only one.”

“You have made a great many changes today.” He stood up to take off the rest of his clothes and smiled as Bridach’s eyes slowly traversed his skin as it appeared.

“Not so very many. The animals will not come until I have fixed the animal pens. The garden will need a lot of work to get back into shape but many of the plants seemed to have gone to seed so we should be fine there.”

“You should get yourself some fabric to make a dress. Or trousers and tunic if you prefer. And you will want boots before it gets cold.” It was as close to an apology as he could make right now. His children had smiled more over supper than they had since he could remember. He climbed into bed and found her body under the pile of furs and pulled her closer. “What else do you need beyond two slingshots?”

“A stretching frame for drying furs. I’m thinking the rabbits might make a nice cloak for Laoise. A comb of my own would be nice, though I could share the one you are making for Laoise. I still need to trade for a few more jugs, and I haven’t even looked at the loom yet. Do you have a spindle?”

Cian kissed her. “These things do not all need to be done in a day. Móirín has been gone for three years, and I was perhaps not as watchful as I should have been. There will be time for all things in the years ahead.”

Bridach nodded. “Of course.” How could she tell him that he didn’t have years and she was trying to get as much done as possible now before he died and she no longer had his help and skills to rely on?  Ruarc would inherit his father’s property and could turn her out if he desired. She did not think he would do that, at least not until he found a woman of his own, but the child inside her deserved her full efforts, and if that meant keeping Ruarc happy as well as his father, she could do that. There would be meat in the cauldron every night.

“Now come, let us discover what it’s like to lay together without the force of the heat goading us onward.” His mouth closed on hers and she wound her arms around his neck. His mouth felt familiar to Bridach but the tenderness of his kisses was new. All they had ever done was lust-driven mating, as likely to bite as to kiss, but now when they could take their time, he was slow and playful, his calloused fingers and warm mouth exploring her body as if they had never touched before.

Cian shoved the furs off as he kissed down her throat and across her chest. He was fascinated with her breasts, rubbing his beard over them to get her nipples to harden and then sucking and biting until her fingers were digging into his shoulders. Her skin was pale as moonlight in the gentle illumination of the candle and this was the first time he ever really gotten to see her body in any detail. He kissed steadily down her stomach and his mouth dipped lower and he tasted her for the first time, his tongue plunging inside her before licking upward to find her clit. Her mating scent had driven him out of his mind, but the taste of her was even more enticing.

She bit her lip until she tasted blood to stay quiet as he suckled and licked until she was arching off the bed, scratching her nails over his head, and gyrating her hips until he grabbed her and held her still. He would not leave this sacred spring until he felt her body go completely still and then tremble, her legs collapsing and her body falling onto the bed with a satisfied moan. And then he kissed up her body and sank himself inside her. She gave way with a wet heat and high pitched sigh that made him stop and gasp for control. Her face was lit just by the small candle on the little stool next to the bed but the glowing light made her look like a goddess. He had never seen her face like this, soft and replete without any worries creasing her brow.  He kissed her tenderly and she clung to him with her warm soft body and she moved with him, slowly at first and then faster. Their hearts raced and the pounding was loud in his ears. She gasped as he rubbed her clit, bringing her to the brink that he was about to fall over, and when she came undone he did as well, plunging into the blessed ecstasy that they brought each other.

Cian collapsed beside her with a happy grunt and grabbed the furs that had fallen to the floor and pulled them back up onto the bed before blowing out the candle. He flopped back onto the bed and Bridach curled into his side, wondering how she could possibly feel cold with the warmth of his body pressed against her. Even the furs did not lessen the chill. She reached for the light, surrounding herself in the ocean of iridescent illumination and holding the tiny spark of their child’s spirit in her hands. Those two things were the reason she was here next to Cian. They would chase away the chill. He may not love her but he was kind and a good provider and a generous lover and there were worse decisions she could have made than Choose the man she loved. She would savor the days and nights she had with him and store up his kindness, even if it was not the love she wanted.

He wrapped his arm around her and kissed her once more before closing his eyes. She fit differently against him than he was used to in this bed and he shifted to get more comfortable. Even with the bliss of his pleasure still lingering in his body, there was a scratching unhappiness that he couldn’t ignore. She was a willing bedmate, a good mother and a hard worker. What more could he want in his mate? A little voice in the nether regions of his head whispered the answer to him. He wanted Móirín back.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pronunciation Guide
> 
> Bean sidhe – ban SHEE

Life was different with Bridach around. The porridge was made with milk instead of water. Bunches of herbs began to appear hanging from the rafters to dry. One basket held parsnips and turnips that had gotten weeded out of the garden to get the rows back in order. Another basket held carrots. They were tough from old age, but chopped up and cooked in a stew they would serve fine. The nightly stew started to vary depending on what her and Laoise had managed to find while out gathering. Garlic scapes were regularly in the pot and mushrooms as well, along with watercress and other green things. And then for the first time in years, it wasn’t stew for supper, but whole fish roasted in clay with the first asparagus of the season and a bowl of wild strawberries. He remembered what it was like to enjoy food again and the omnipresent pinched feeling between his shoulders faded away.

He and Ruarc would wash up every evening and come back to the house to see Bridach sitting in the rocking chair, grinding grain for the next day’s flour while telling Laoise a story. The first night he oiled her flute as he listened to her spin tales and then he worked on Laoise’s comb, making sure that the wood was perfectly smooth. The next night he oiled the chair, and the third night he tended to the loom. He could feel Bridach watching him as he cleaned the frame and oiled the wood. He carefully wiped each of the stones clean and set them back in the basket. He didn’t have the strings for it, but it would be ready for Bridach to use. Every day he avoided being with her alone because she wanted to talk about what had happened in the forest. They went to bed when the children did, and they laid with each other and then went to sleep.

The first big surprise had come after two hands of days he had walked in the door at night to find half of a butchered deer hanging from the rafters, right where the smoke reached so it would cure. “What did you trade for a deer?”

“Nothing.” She smiled at him, proud of her ability to provide meat for the family on her own skills and not having to trade on Cian’s. “Olcán and I took Laoise out to teach her some basic hunting skills and we happened to be blessed in our efforts.”

“You and Olcán,” he said flatly.

Her shoulders knotted under the dress she had borrowed from Croiné. She should have known he would focus on that rather than on the meat that now was theirs. “Yes. It’s not like any of the other men in the village can turn into a wolf.”

Cian folded his arms over his chest. “I can.”

“You’re busy making shields and spears,” she pointed out with what she hoped was a reasonable tone.

“I don’t want Olcán teaching Laoise how to hunt.”

Bridach went back to stirring the stew. “The pack cares for its own, Cian.”

“Well maybe Olcán shouldn’t be a member of the pack.”

Bridach turned around and glared at her mate. “Are you still mad that I’m going with him to investigate the shoreline tomorrow?”

“He’s taking you treewalking. You’re going to step into a tree and come out another one so far away it would take hours to get there on foot. How is that normal?”

“Says the man that turns into a wolf.”

“We touched and there was light that blinded me and then you’re not hurt anymore but there’s a raven tattooed on your thigh. And then a tree called your name and filled you with light and tomorrow you’re walking through trees. I don’t understand what is happening to you.”

This was the first time he had ever expressed the slightest concern for her rather than grumping around. “Either do I. I’m not taking it out on Olcán though.”

Cian rubbed a hand over his head, disheveling his hair. “I don’t want you ending up like Gráinne.”

Bridach tilted her head to the side. “Becoming a priestess?”

“Sacrificing yourself to become a priestess.”

“What do you mean?”

Cian sank down onto the bench. “For as much as she chatters, Gráinne hasn’t told you anything about her past, has she.” It wasn’t a question. Cian knew how reticent she was to talk about herself though she prided herself on knowing everything about everyone else.

“Not really. Why?”

A tired smile emerged under his beard. “How old do you think she is?”

“Twenty-five?”

“I remember her looking the way she does now when I was a small boy. My grandda remembered Gráinne looking the way she does now when he was a small boy.”

“That can’t be true.”

“I swear to the Goddess. She used to be faoladh and one night she made a sacrifice and offered up that part of her for more power as a priestess. She can’t change anymore, but the winds follow her every word. I’ve seen her call lightning out of a clear sky.”

Bridach sank down on the bench next to him as the world whirled around her. “Gráinne?” She tried to make sense of Cian’s claim and failed.

Cian closed his hand over hers and held it. “I worry that the Morrigan is going to turn you into something else. Something not faoladh.”

The unexpected tenderness from him caused her throat to clog. “Wouldn’t want that. You’d go back to eating fish soup and watery porridge.”

“It’s not just the food I would miss.”

“Oh, and the warm bed.”

He grabbed her cheeks in his hand. “I’d miss you. It’s nice to not be lonely anymore, and when you leave the windows open during the day I can hear you playing your flute while I’m working and everyone’s happier now that you’re here. Even me,” he admitted softly.

Bridach let him hold her gaze, the gentleness there causing her entire body to flush with warmth. “I think that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.”

He gave her a lopsided smile. “I promised to woo you and then you went into heat. Maybe I should still do a bit of wooing.”

She leaned in to kiss him when Ruarc pushed open the door, a fiercely kicking Laoise tucked under one arm. The two of them leapt to their feet.

“Tell Da what you did or I will.” He dropped her on the ground.

Laoise stuck her tongue out at her brother and then smiled cheerily up at her da. “Is it time for supper?”

Cian crossed his arms over his chest as he peered down at his youngest child. “What did you do?”

“I was practicing hunting.”

“And?”

She got to her feet and brushed off the dust. “I climbed up on top of your workshop and waited for Ruarc to come out and then I jumped on him!”

She was so proud of herself that Bridach had to turn around so that the little girl wouldn’t see her struggling not to laugh. She looked at Cian out of the corner of her eye and saw the same suppressed amusement in his face.

“She knocked me to the ground and then she _bit_ me!” Ruarc tilted his head to the side to show the imprint of her teeth still on his neck.

“Laoise!” Cian snapped. The grin on her face disappeared as she realized that what she had done was not acceptable. “Why would you do that?”

“I was just practicing what Mumma taught me today.”

Bridach watched the light in Cian’s face disappear and stepped forward to deal with the little girl. “First off, no hunting people. Second, no biting people, regardless of whether you hunt them or not. Third, do not climb up on top of the buildings. You could fall and get hurt. Now tell your brother you’re sorry.”

Her bottom lip trembled as she turned to her brother. “I’m sorry, Ruarc.”

He grunted and patted her head. “Just don’t do it again.”

“And Laoise, if you do it again, I won’t give you any more hunting lessons, understood?” There were tears in her eyes as she solemnly nodded her head. “Now both of you wash your hands and go sit. Supper is ready to eat.”

Dinner was a silent affair. Cian barely ate and let Ruarc finish off the rest of his stew; then he said he would do the washing up alone. Bridach waited up until he came home, but he didn’t speak and went straight to bed. She put the flour she had ground away and turned into a wolf and curled up next to the fire to sleep.

>< 

After breakfast, Cian and Ruarc left to their workshop. Even though the shop was just a stone’s throw from the front door, the oppressive silence that had brooded over the house since the night before left as well.  It was pouring rain outside but it felt like the sun was shining again. Laoise propped her elbows on table and rested her face in her hands. “What are we going to do now?”

“You child, are going to spend the day with Gráinne, because I have adult things to do today.”

“Does this mean we won’t have time to go look for strawberries?”

“Not today. Now hurry over to Gráinne’s.”

Laoise’s nose wrinkled at being summarily dismissed but she went out the door and ran shrieking gleefully through the rain. Bridach turned her attention to preparing the stew for supper. Cian had promised to send Ruarc over a few times during the day to tend the fire. She was adding in the last handful of chopped carrots when Olcán pushed through the door.

“Where’s Cian?”

“He’s in his shop. Why?”

“There are men in the forest. At least two hands of them.” He spun around and charged out the door with Bridach fast on his heels.

“There are men in the forest,” he repeated as he barged into Cian’s workshop. Bridach had never ventured into this space before feeling that Cian needed someplace that was just his. It was carefully lit by shielded lanterns. Large pieces of wood were up on braces, and she could see the outline of the spears that Cian was shaping into the trunk.

Cian snarled. “Sound the alarum.” Olcán ran for the village and he turned to Bridach. “Get Laoise and go to Gráinne. Her house is inside the wall and you will be safe there.” He took a large axe and a shield off of the wall. “Ruarc, you go with her.”

“Da, I’m old enough to fight.”

Cian snarled at his son. “No, you’re not.”

Ruarc didn’t back away from his father. “Da. I am. Look at me. I’m old enough to go with you.”

Cian looked at his son, really looked at him for the first time in three years. He barely had to lower his head now, and the light blue eyes were in a face no longer marked with round cheeks but by the start of a beard. Working by his side had given Ruarc muscles over his entire lanky frame. He was still a boy, but Ruarc was right. He was old enough to go fight. Cian carefully took a smaller axe from the wall, a shiny edged of the blade backed with a long spike, and handed it to Ruarc. “You think you can use that?”

He tested the weight of it in his hand, looking like a warrior rather than a child playing with a toy and nodded in satisfaction. “Men are just short trees. I’ll be fine.”

“It brought your mother much honor. Live up to her legacy.” Cian wiped a hand over his face. “Now go pick a shield that fits. You’ve made enough of them in the last week to know a good one.”

He turned to Bridach. “Why are you still here?”

“Be safe. Both of you.” She wanted to kiss him and hold him one last time, but he didn’t move towards her. A clanging went up from the village and Bridach backed out of the shop. “Be safe.”

“I will. Now go tend to our daughter.”

Bridach picked up the hem of her dress and ran for the village, the fear in her heart warring with the thrill of Cian calling Laoise their daughter. They lived just outside the circular wall, faoladh rarely lived in the village proper, and the gate was already partly closed. Olcán and Tadhg and the village blacksmith were already armed and other men were hurrying towards them as they stood under the overhang of the meeting hall. The heavy fur shirts they wore belted over their clothes would provide them some protection, but she wished that all of them wore the strange metal shirts that the intruders had. Gráinne was standing with the men and Bridach hurried to her. “Where’s Laoise?”

“I haven’t seen her yet today.”

Her heart froze. “I sent her to you almost an hour ago.”

“She never arrived.”

Bridach swore and pelted across the village to exit a different gate. As soon as she was out of the village she turned and headed back towards the river, giving herself enough leeway where Cian wouldn’t see her. She pulled off her dress as she ran and as soon as it was off she shifted, leaping up on a ridge and landing crouched on all fours. She scented the air, hoping for any sign of Laoise, but there was none.  She was almost certain that Laoise had gone hunting strawberries by herself. The rain would make it impossible to track her by scent but hopefully the mud on the riverbank would hold footprints.

She ran down the riverbank towards the ocean, hoping that she had stayed on this side of the river. She had told the child she wasn’t supposed to cross the river without permission, not that Laoise seemed to be big on obedience. The rain beaded on her fur as she loped down the riverbank, stopping occasionally to sniff the air and scan the rocks and river banks for any sign of the girl. If anything happened to her, Bridach didn’t think she would be able to forgive herself, and she knew Cian wouldn’t.

Bridach was about to give up and cross the river and track up the other side when she heard a high-pitched scream. She spurred herself to new speed and came upon a group of the same strange soldiers that had attacked her. There were four of them and in the distance she could see their camp, straight lines of white tents. More important to her than the layout of their tents was that one of the men had Laoise pinned in his arms and was carrying her back to the camp.

She lurched forward with a howl and threw herself at the man straggling behind. He turned at the sound of her howl and she hit him hard in the chest and knocked him to the ground. She shifted back into a woman as she stood on his chest and pressed her bare foot hard against his throat. “Give me back my child,” she snarled as she stood up.

The other men were staring at her with slack jaws and Laoise struggled against the man holding her, both of her arms reaching out towards her. “Mumma!”

She pressed harder on the man’s throat and he gurgled and gasped for air. She pointed at Laoise and then at herself. “Give me my child,” she repeated. The man grabbed her ankle and tried to wrench her off of him but she put the heel of her other foot on his balls and he stopped. The man holding Laoise said something. She couldn’t understand what he said but it wasn’t accompanied by putting down Laoise so it really didn’t matter. She pointed at Laoise and then at herself again. “One last time. Give me my child.”

The men started backing away from her. She could see the calculations in their faces. One naked woman against the three of them, and if she did step off of the fourth, he would tackle her to the ground before she got anywhere near them. That she could change into a wolf was impressive but with their swords drawn she was no threat. The same calculations were racing through her head. She held out one hand and flicked open her fingers. A ball of fire rested in her palm. She had sworn never again for her own sake, but she couldn’t risk what they might do to Laoise. They stopped as the ball of orange fire twisted and turned in her hand, wrapping tendrils of flame around her forearm like a clinging vine. They waited for her to do something else as the raindrops hissed and evaporated in wisps of steam as they hit the fire glowing in her hand. The one holding Laoise said something and all three of them took another step back. She shook her head, her hair already dripping from the rain. She didn’t dare fire them, not with the hurt they could do to Laoise by the time she got to her. “Laoise, close your eyes and cover your ears. Now, child!” Laoise’s face scrunched up as she obeyed and Bridach opened her mouth and sang.

She had lied to Olcán. She didn’t sound like a raven when she sang, but she didn’t sound like a woman either. An unearthly wail left her mouth in a keening lament for the dead, each syllable dripping with eldritch power like the rain from her hair. The men flinched away from the sound as terror replaced the blood flowing through their bodies and she saw it in their eyes a fraction of a second after she felt the icy chill on her back. The bean sidhe had come in answer to her call, the dark fairies who could drag souls into the underworld. “Not the child,” she ordered, and the hags sang, their frayed wings folded around them like moth eaten cloaks, and she felt the life of the man underfoot leave him, and he softened and withered in his armor.

Bridach bolted forward, still singing, flames wrapped around her entire arm like a lover, and the man dropped Laoise and all three of them ran for their camp, their screams eerily harmonizing with the wailing songs of their pursuers. Bridach threw herself over Laoise, shielding her from the bean sidhe and she listened to the sizzle of the rain against her skin. The song receded into the distance and Bridach scrambled to her feet, picked up Laoise and ran back towards the village. The bean sidhe weren’t always the most obedient of creatures and she didn’t trust them not to turn on her and Laoise. She slipped and skidded in the mud and on the slick grass, and which she found a crevice in between two rocks large enough to shelter them from the rain she ducked into and pressed as far back as she could before sinking to the ground. Laoise crawled off of her and found her own little nook.

“Are you alright, child? Are you hurt?”

The little girl’s face pinched up as her chin quivered.

“It’s alright, Laoise. Those men aren’t going to hurt you anymore.” She reached for her and Laoise flinched away. Bridach slowly sat back against the cold rock. Laoise wasn’t scared of the men out there, she was scared of the monster sitting in the cave with her, the woman she had called Mumma.

><

The soldiers weren’t difficult to find. Between Olcán talking to the birds and the trees talking to Cian, the group of twenty slipped through the forest as quietly as twenty men can when almost none of them have ever practiced being quiet. The sodden layer of leaves underfoot muffled their approach. The soldiers were following a deer trail through the forest and the village men split into two groups, one on either side as the path wound through a depression in the forest floor. When they soldiers were fairly in between them, Tadhg cried out and they charged down the slopes and fell on the soldiers, slaughtering them in under a minute. Cian took down one, and whirled just in time to see Ruarc make his first kill. Ruarc watched the light go out in the man’s eyes as his axe sliced across the man’s throat, spraying blood. The body crumpled to the ground and Ruarc stared at it for a few seconds before spinning around and retching into a bush, vomit and blood mingling on his chin.

Cian wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “Men aren’t trees, son.”

“I’m sorry for getting sick.”

Cian pulled the waterskin from one of the corpses and handed it to Ruarc. “Wash your mouth out. And I’ll deny it if you ever tell anyone else, but I vomited all over the first man I killed. Didn’t even make it to a bush.” He ruffled his son’s hair. “You made your mother proud. And me.”

Tadhg called over the men and singled three out. “Strip the bodies of anything usable. Take it back to the village and then burn the bodies. The rest of us, we’re going to track these men back to where they camped and see how many more are with them.”

Cian grabbed another waterskin and threw it over his shoulder. Between the rain and the river it probably wasn’t necessary, but it was always better to be prepared. Several of the other men did the same and they set off again through the dripping woods. The trees and the birds guided them to the edge of the forest where it sloped down almost to a curve in the riverbed. One of the elders of the forest had toppled a few years back and made a convenient bridge across the water. They squatted in the cover of the forest and watched the rows of white tents. There was no movement. Olcán nudged Cian in the side and pointed at what looked like a body lying in the grass.

“Have you seen any movement?”

Cian shook his head.

“I think he’s dead. Something’s wrong here. I can’t get any of the birds to fly over and take a look.”

“Why not?”

“They say the air is dark.”

Cian looked up at the sky. “Are they talking about the rain clouds?”

“No. It’s the air. Dark or smoke are the words they use.”

Cian shrugged. “It looks normal to me.”

Olcán went back to Tadhg. The two men whispered together and Olcán edged out of the forest and crept to the fallen tree. Cian kept an eye on the fallen man but he still didn’t move. Olcán climbed onto the tree and walked across without being hailed. He took the final few steps and leapt off of the end of the trunk and crouched motionless, waiting for a reaction. Cian counted sixty beats of his heart before Olcán moved again, darting over to the fallen man. He stood and prodded the man and Cian didn’t see a reaction. Olcán waved and shouted an all clear.

Tadhg stood up and the rest of them followed him as he made his way down to the tree and across the river. The last thing Cian expected to hear was Laoise screaming ‘Da!’ as she ran towards him as fast as her little legs would carry her. Bridach trailed behind completely naked.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as he picked up his daughter.

“I went to go pick strawberries and the men in the metal shirts caught me.” She threw her arms around his neck and burrowed into him.

Cian glared at Bridach. No wonder she was keeping her distance from him. “Gráinne and Bridach let you go pick strawberries?”

The pause before she answered told him enough. “No. I just went.”

“And Bridach rescued you?”

“Yes.”

He closed his eyes and sighed. “I think you should go tell her thank you.”

“Don’t make me go to her, Da. She called the bad ladies.”

Olcán interrupted. “The bad ladies?”

“She caught on fire and then she told me to close my eyes and cover my ears and I did and then there was the most awful sound and I went cold like when we play in the snow and then there was more of the awful sound and I peeked and there were three scary old ladies all in raggedy black and Bridach talked to them and I don’t like her anymore and I don’t want her to be my mumma.”

The men who had gathered around the withered corpse had fallen silent and heard this explanation of what had happened. They backed away from the body and a few of them made evil eye gestures at Bridach who hadn’t said anything.

Tadgh beckoned her over and as she approached, Cian backed away holding Laoise on his hip. “What say you to the story from this child?”

“I called the bean sidhe.” Her voice was steady and her face was calm. This was not the first time she had been called to account for the death that bloomed in her wake.

A ripple ran through the men surrounding them and they shifted back. “You called a bean sidhe?” Tadhg repeated, as if he hadn’t heard her correctly.

“Three.” She would be scrupulously honest.

Tadhg looked at Olcán. He could deal with a cattle poacher or a fight between two drunkards. The bean sidhe were outside his ken. Olcán took over the questioning. “You called three bean sidhe. Why?”

“They had my daughter –,”

Cian cut her off. “ _My_ daughter.”

Bridach bowed her head so Cian wouldn’t see the tears his stinging rejection had brought to her eyes. “They had Laoise and I was protecting her.

Olcán’s hand slowly stroked over the carvings in his staff as if he was reading something there that only his fingers could see. “So you called the bean sidhe and gave them four men for the life of a girl.”

She would not let him shame her for her actions. Her lip pulled back from her teeth as she answered. “Aye, for the life of a girl that I have oath-sworn responsibility towards.”

Olcán nodded with understanding. “You and Cian have Chosen each other.” The villagers were familiar enough with faoladh that the men understood Choosing to be the faoladh way of wedding each other.

Again she would be painfully honest. “No. I Chose Cian. He has sworn no oath to me.”

Olcán looked at Cian with a head cocked to the side and his pack leader ducked his head. He returned his attention to Bridach. “And yet you protect his daughter.”

“Mate and pack, Olcán. You know the words.”

“Yes, I do.” She might have been so caught up in Cian to not realize Olcán had been a faoladh that morning she sat playing her flute in the sunshine, but he had obviously known what she was and had been out looking for her that day in the forest too, trying to get to her before Cian did. It might have been easier if Olcán would have been the one to find her. They would have mated, but she wouldn’t have Chosen, and she wouldn’t be standing here surrounded by men who looked scared of her, even though they were clad in armor and wielding weapons, and she standing naked and shivering with her hair dripping around her shoulders. There was regret and longing in his eyes before he turned to Tadhg. “She has broken no law here.”

“She called bean sidhe. What else might she do?” The men started shouting back and forth and Bridach edged slowly away until she shifted into a wolf and sprinted back towards the village. None of the men could catch up to her; her only fear was Cian or Olcán running her down, but she got back to where she had left her dress and sandals and shifted back into her human form. She ran to her house, no more no more, the words sounded in her head, and grabbed her staff, flute and satchel. She shoved some of the food she had gathered into her bag, wrestled the soaking wet dress over her head and bound on her sandals. She would take nothing else from Cian’s home. She would not be accused of theft.

Again, just like a few weeks earlier, she headed into the forest, this time supported by her staff instead of a crutch, but just like a few weeks earlier, she hadn’t had time to say goodbye.


	10. Chapter 10

Olcán pulled back the dripping vines shielding the cave’s entrance and peered inside. “If you were trying to hide, choosing the cave that you and Cian used was probably not the best choice.”

Bridach sat with a ball of fire in her hand. It provided no heat but it didn’t smoke either and it kept away the dreary dark. “I’m not hiding. I wanted to get out of the rain. Trying to walk in a soaking wet dress is nigh impossible. The fabric clings and pulls at your legs like a living thing trying to drag you to a halt. I was going to split the skirt front and back and bind it around my legs but then I remembered it is not my dress. I am leaving with even fewer goods than I arrived with, and that is a great accomplishment for one with so little to her name.”

Olcán crawled into the cave and seated himself a few feet away from where Bridach sat with one of the furs wrapped around her body. Her pale shoulders rose from the dark swath of covering, and her dress was spread out on the ground nearby. “You’re leaving then?”

“I’m not wanted here.”

“You are wanted.”

Bridach snorted and went back to watching the fire slowly twist and turn, sending out tendrils to wrap around her fingers and wrist. “Laoise is terrified of me. Cian will never stop loving his dead wife enough to cede even the smallest fragment of his heart to me. I should go sit on the shore and wait for the soldiers to come and call the bean sidhe again. That way no more of our people will die, and if they take me as well then at least my death will be serving a good purpose.”

“You must not call the bean sidhe again. Their corruption clings to the land, to you, and to your child.”

The firelight glinted off of the fear in her eyes. “What’s wrong with Laoise?”

“The child inside you. Did you think you could call on the dark and it would not affect the light you carry?”

Bridach turned her gaze inward. Her own light seemed dim, the glowing iridescence of the Morrigan light seemed shrouded in fog, and the tiny but growing spark of her child did not flare with its previous brilliance. She pressed a hand over her stomach. “Can I heal this?”

“You have to. You have caused darkness to fall on this land and it is your responsibility to fix it.”

She had never fixed the destruction she left behind. When she had been orphaned her instinct was to run away before anyone caught her. She had always followed that instinct before. Now she was bound too tightly to leave and she would have to nest in the filth she had created unless she cleaned it up. The people here deserved that consideration. They had done nothing wrong to her. Just because Cian had rejected her didn’t mean they all should suffer. Thinking his name made her whole body throb with agony.  “Do you think Cian knows I am with child?” Her one hope through the last hours had been that the finding out she was carrying his child would earn her his forgiveness.

“If his nose works, he does.”

Her hope flickered and died and the flame in her hand did as well. “He hasn’t said anything about it. He hasn’t said anything about much of anything at all. I don’t know if he even wants this child, especially now. He doesn’t want me now even as a simple bed partner much less as a true mate.”

Olcán edged closer to her in the darkness. “If he does not, there are people who will cherish her. There are people who would cherish you as well.”

“Olcán, you know I have Chosen. I stopped not just because of my dress but because of the pain of leaving. It pulls at my heart. I have bound myself to him truly, and until he repudiates me I will be no one else’s, even if I wanted to be so. I have warped myself to his weft.”

Even in the darkness she could see his rueful smile and hear it in his speech. “I see why the Morrigan chose you. You must have a soul of incredible power to be this tightly bound after such a short amount of time Chosen.”

“I Chose him when I was a girl.” She told Olcán the story of meeting Cian at the howling. “I didn’t know the words would work like that. It was just a child’s pretending, but ever since then I have felt myself tied to him. I have seen him in dreams and I woke up screaming in pain the night he lost his wife.”

Olcán nodded slowly, turning over this new information in his head. “Then I understand even more why the Morrigan chose you. There are few people who have power to bind by oath in such a manner. She has given you great power. You must be careful how you choose to use it for even your idle words could change lives, as it has changed yours.”

“Do you think I could use it unbind myself?”

“The tattoo on your leg. The raven. That happened when you Chose him again, didn’t it.” He sounded like Gráinne, making questions into statements.

“Yes. There was a great flash of light and my leg was healed and the raven mark remained.”

“Then why would you want to undo something the Morrigan has blessed?”

Her soul railed at the question, beating against the walls of her body. How do you explain the spirit cracking urge to reject the gift of the goddess? “Because it hurts,” was all she managed to say.

“I know. It hurts to love someone who does not love you back.” He patted her leg through the blanket. “I will come get you here in the morning then and we will go to where the darkness lingers and I will teach you.” He cupped his hands in front of her and a ball of water appeared in his palms, rippling as it slowly undulated in circles. “Just remember, you are not alone in all of your gifts and even when there is not a mate, there is still the pack.” He closed his hands and the water disappeared. He leaned forward and kissed her forehead and then he left.

>< 

She heard Ruarc tromping through the rain long before he stuck his head in the cave entrance. “Can I come in?”

“Ruarc, what are you doing out here?”

His eyes darted to the ball of fire dancing on top of a rock at the back of the cave. Bridach had placed it there when she had grown tired of holding it. “I brought you some supper. I thought that since you made it, you should get to eat it.”

She happily took the bowl from him. It was warm and smelled delicious. A little part of her was happy that Cian was going to go back to bland fish soup now, though she was sorry for Ruarc’s sake. “Does your da know where you are?” She took her first bite of the stew.

Ruarc snorted. “Da is an idiot and Laoise is a child. You saved her life and I don’t care how you did it. Killing a man is hard and you did what was needed to protect the pack.”

Bridach cocked her head as she looked at him, his hood still up over his head and casting his eyes into shadow. “Did you make your first kill today?”

“Yeah.” He looked up at her for a moment. “I got sick in the bushes afterwards.”

“Good.”

He pushed his hood back so she could see his face. Maybe he wanted to see hers as well, to make sure she wasn’t teasing him. “Good?”

“That means you’re not a monster. We should always feel remorse at taking a life, whether it’s an animal or a person’s, even if that person is our enemy. Life is sacred, Ruarc.”

“Still kind of embarrassing, though.”

The boy was still there, and she hoped he would be able to remain for many years to come. They sat quietly together while she finished the stew and she handed him back the bowl. “Thank you for the food.”

Ruarc dropped a waterskin on the fur. “You’re still part of the pack to me, Bridach. I think you should come home.”

Bridach ruffled his hair and smiled to keep tears from springing up again. “I don’t think that would be fair to your sister or your father. But I’m not leaving yet. There are things here I still need to do.”

>< 

She heard Cian before she saw him though his journey through the forest had been much quieter than his son’s. He paced outside the cave for minutes smelling of anger and fear before she lost her hold on her patience. “Either come in or go away.” The echoes of her words faded away and there was no sound from outside either. Finally, he brushed aside the greenery and came in. He crouched several feet from her and she waited for him to speak as he kept looking back and forth between her and the fire.

“You can call the bean sidhe.”

“Yes.”

He scratched at his beard, his eyes nervously darting around the cave, peering into the shadows that moved and danced in the spinning firelight. “Have you called them before?”

“Twice.”

“Have you ever summoned anything else?”

“No.”

“Can you?”

“I don’t know, but I won’t try. I want nothing to do with those things.”

He took her hand and held it between both of his. “Not even if someone you loved asked you to?”

His hands felt so wonderful even with their touch being a deliberate manipulation on his part. “What do you want, Cian?”

“Could you summon Móirín?”

She yanked her hand from his grasp and slapped him squarely across the face. “Get out!”

Cian grabbed her wrist. “You will not strike me, woman,” he snarled.

“Get out. You ask  _me_  to summon your dead wife? Have you no sense of compassion? Of pity?”

“I don’t mean to hurt you.”

“Are you sure? Because you are so very good at it for it to be an accident.”

He tossed her arm away and sank back against the opposite wall of the cave. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have come.”

“Not with that request on your lips.”

They glared at each other, both of them feeling the hair on the back of their neck standing on end. Finally, Cian bared his throat to her. “You’re right that I shouldn’t have asked you to summon Móirín. I should have asked you summon back my heart, for she took it with her when she died. I’m sorry I hurt you.” He left the cave and Bridach scrambled after him.

“Repudiate me, Cian,” she yelled at his retreating form.

“What?”

“Either Choose me or repudiate me. Don’t make me live like this, bound to love a man with no heart.”

He shook his head. “I will not repudiate you, Bridach. You have done no wrong.”

“Then ask me to come home.”

“Laoise is terrified of you.”

“She’s a child. I’m your mate. I carry another one of your children. Doesn’t that matter at all to you?”

He marched back to her and grabbed her face in both hand and kissed her fiercely with a passion that left both of their lips throbbing. “I know my life is better with you in it but how do I give you something I have already given to another? Use your powers to grow me another heart and I would gladly give it to you, Bridach.” Cian turned around, unable to withstand the anger and grief on her face, and began his way back to the village.

Bridach wasn’t done being heard. “I have bound myself to you too long! I am done feasting on endless hurt!”

That got his attention and he whirled around. “You can’t repudiate me,” he shouted back at her.

“No. I can’t. I can’t repudiate you because you never Chose me. You chose to be a coward instead. You have been a coward since Móirín died.” She braced herself for the attack that she was sure to come, either from the man or the wolf, but instead he staggered like she had bowled into him. He caught his footing and turned and left, ignoring her screaming his name after him. It echoed through the forest like the call of a bird, and followed him back to his home.

>< 

Olcán got up to answer the knock on the door. It was late for visitors to come to his small house outside the village. It was nestled right up against the trees and was overlooked by a scattering of large boulders that were rumored to dance in the moonlight when the stars were in the right positions. He opened the door to see Bridach standing there in her wet dress. “Can I sleep by your fire tonight?”

“Of course.”


	11. Chapter 11

Cian watched silently as Ruarc finished his porridge, scooped out another serving into his bowl, and left with it. He hadn’t said anything the night before when Ruarc had taken her supper, either. It wasn’t as if he wanted her going hungry while he figured out what to do about Laoise being afraid of her. He’d tossed and turned all night thinking about it, and the voices in his head had whispered that Laoise wasn’t the only one afraid. He finished his breakfast and went to his shop with Laoise right behind him. She hadn’t wanted to go to Gráinne today preferring to stay where she could see her da, and Cian hadn’t had the heart to make her go, so she sat in the corner of the shop and played with the animal toys he had carved.

Ruarc eventually came in and went directly to work, carefully shaping the cross sections of the trunk into shields. He’d built up a pile of shavings at his feet by the time Cian quietly asked, “How was she?”

“She wasn’t there. I don’t think she slept there last night.”

Ruarc’s words echoed in Cian’s suddenly hollow chest and his chisel slipped and gouged a long line in the wood he was carving. It didn’t seem possible that she would have left him. “Where did she go?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t track her. I’ve got no claim on her, and apparently you’ve only half of one.”

Cian rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. He had barely slept last night, beset by his thoughts and constantly reaching for the woman that wasn’t there. “You don’t understand.”

Ruarc carefully put down his plane and turned to his father. “No, Da, I don’t think you understand. I get what I did was wrong, but you sat me down and told me about Choice and about the rules. So now I’m telling you. I tried to force her, but you did the same thing. She were bleeding when she left the house, and you went after her, and you found her weak and lusting, and you forced her too. You forced her to Choose you.”

“I didn’t force her.”

“You did though. I heard you two earlier that day talking. You said you would woo her and she begged you not to ask her to stay. She didn’t want to be here, and then she went into heat. I tried to force myself on her, but you forced yourself on her too.”

Cian traced a finger over the scar he had just made in the wood as he tried to ignore what Ruarc was saying. It would take hours to smooth out the gouge. “She made a Choice.”

“You told me yourself that Choice should never be made while in heat. It’s one of the rules. You could have brought her back here and gotten Gráinne to tend to her. You could have let Olcán find her because he at least would have had the decency to Choose her in return. But you bred her and made her Choose you, and then can’t even respect her enough to make her your mate.”

His hand clenched around the wounded wood. “I love your mother, boy.”

“You think I don’t love Ma? She’s my ma too. I love her. But she’s  _dead_ , Da. She’s dead and she’s not coming back and you aren’t going to find a better woman than Bridach. She’s faoladh of course, but she cooks good and she plays music and she’s a hard worker and she risked her own life to save Laoise.”

He had thought about that all through the night. She’d saved his daughter, but as grateful as he was, he was also scared of her powers. He didn’t know all of what she could do or what the Morrigan would ask of her and what it would mean for who she was. “She summoned the bean sidhe. Am I supposed to forget that?”

“She did it to save Laoise. She didn’t do it to fend me off. She didn’t call them to fend you off neither. She saved your child. She’s not a warrior like Ma was. She isn’t gonna go after someone with an axe. But she went after them with what she had. Laoise runs wild because you never taught her to mind, and Bridach risked her own life to save a child that wasn’t hers because she honors the pack.”

“I don’t like her no more,” Laoise piped up. “She talks to the bad ladies.”

Ruarc whirled on his little sister. “Well if you hadn’t been a little brat and ran off in the first place, she wouldn’t have had to. What do you think those men were going to do with you? If it weren’t for Bridach and the bad ladies, you’d be dead right now instead of sitting there with a full stomach and toys.”

“Don’t scare your sister, Ruarc,” Cian said gently. He didn’t have it in him to scold the boy for disciplining her. Someone needed to. If only her smile didn’t look so much like Móirín’s.

“I’m just speaking the truth. She’d be dead right now, and you’re being an idiot if you can’t see what you’re losing because you think you died with Ma. It’s like in the forest when a tree dies. At first all you see is the big empty spot from it missing, but after a while, you start to see all the new plants that are springing up. Flowers and bushes and even saplings. You’ve been staring at the hole for so long that you don’t see what’s come up in its absence. She loves you, Da, though I don’t know why because you’ve certainly given her little enough reason. But she does. And I’ve seen some of the looks you give her too. You could love her if you just let yourself.” Ruarc went back to work, done yelling at his da all the words that had been churning in his head since Cian had come home by himself the night before.

Cian went back to working on the staff he had marred. A careless slip of the hand and he’d added hours to the work he would have to do. He hadn’t made a mistake like this in years. Why had his hand slipped at the news that Bridach was gone? And why hadn’t he been able to let her go the night before either, even as she begged him with tears on her face to repudiate her? He was scared of her powers and he was also scared that the Morrigan would take her the way it had taken Gráinne and leave him alone again. He was scared of the bean sidhe, but how else was she supposed to have fought those men, naked as she was and with them having Laoise? He kept circling back to the truth that he was scared and the equal truth that he didn’t want her to leave. He didn’t love her, but they’d only known each other less than a moon. It had taken longer than that for him to know he was in love with Móirín and they had just been pups. So he didn’t love her yet. Maybe Ruarc was right. Maybe he should start paying more attention to the new sapling than the hole it was filling. Twice now he had promised to court her, and twice now he had broken his word, something she hadn’t done even when it caused her pain. She may claim not to be a warrior, but she had been braver than him in their relationship.

He looked over at his son who was steadily working away, making the arms the men in the village would soon need. “When did you get so smart?”

Ruarc grinned at his father. “I’ve always taken after Ma.”

Cian laughed and shook his head. He worked for a few more minutes and then took his axe and shield from off the wall. “I’m going for a walk.”

Ruarc didn’t bother looking up from his work. “Don’t be an idiot this time.”

“What makes you think I was an idiot last time?”

He grinned up at his da through the fall of blond hair that covered his eyes. “You came home by yourself.”

>< 

Cian tracked her scent to the meadow where the invaders had camped and found her sitting next to the corpse. Olcán hadn’t let any of the bodies be touched or their camp be looted after Bridach had admitted to summoning bean sidhe, insisting everything needed to be cleansed first. He was sitting there as well, facing Bridach. Cian couldn’t even bring himself to be jealous. She’d proven her loyalty. Whatever she was doing here with him would have to do with the cleansing.

“It doesn’t look any different,” Bridach was saying.

“No, but can you tell the difference? That the body is cleansed now?”

“Yes. The way you taught me to look for the darkness makes my head hurt, though.”

“You’ll get used to it.” He nodded to Cian who was trying to not interrupt, afraid of what might happen if he disturbed their ritual. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I came to talk to Bridach.”

She looked up at him and he thrust a handful of flowers at her. “I’m sorry.”

Bridach scrambled to her feet, looking back and forth between Olcán and Cian.

Olcán gracefully stood. “I think we should take a rest for a while and regather our energy.” He headed towards the camp.

Bridach turned her back towards Olcán. “Why are you here?” she hissed when he was out of earshot.

“To apologize for being a coward. I brought you flowers.” He held out the bouquet again.

She took the flowers from him and held them awkwardly. She had no experience in receiving gifts from a man. “Is this because I’m working with Olcán?”

He rubbed the back of his neck as he stared at the flowers. He’d forgotten how hard apologizing was. “No, it’s because I’m an idiot.”

She hid her smile by smelling the flowers. “It sounds like Ruarc’s been at you.”

That got a little chuckle from him. “He’s a surprisingly intelligent boy. Apparently he thinks I’m a fool.”

She looked up at him, her nose still buried in the blossoms. “And what do you think?”

She was wearing her hair completely down, something she rarely did, and the sunlight was reflecting off of the copper strands. There were lines at the corners of her eyes that normally weren’t there. He delicately touched them, trying to smooth away the marks that he knew he had put there. “I think you’ve never looked more beautiful than you do at this moment, and my life is better when you’re in it, and I don’t love you yet, but if you’re willing to give me another chance I would like to try to fall in love with you. I miss you, Bridach. Last night I couldn’t sleep and I kept reaching for you, expecting you to be curled up next to me and you weren’t there. Three years of sleeping alone and it only took you days to make the bed feel empty when you’re not in it.”

Her hand slowly dropped as she listened to him. “What about your missing heart?”

“This morning Ruarc took you breakfast and you weren’t there, and when he told me he didn’t think you’d slept in the cave last night I realized I did have a heart because it stopped for a moment.”

Her eyes dropped closed and she tilted her cheek into his palm, letting it rest there for a moment before pulling back. “And Laoise?” She stared at the flowers in her hands again. Pretty words were nice, but if not paired with actual changes they served no purpose.

“She’ll get over it.”

Bridach looked up at him, her head cocked to the side. “I’m not Móirín,” she warned. “I never will be.”

“I know. I don’t want you to be her.”

Her eyes narrowed and new lines formed at the bridge of her nose. “Really?”

Cian placed his hands on her waist and pulled her closer to him. “I love her. But she was an oak and you’re a pine. You’re both different but the difference suits you. Just because I love the grain of oak doesn’t mean I can’t also love the scent of pine. Besides, you’re a better cook than she was.”

He smiled like he thought he was being funny, but Bridach wasn’t amused and pushed him away. “You keep saying your life is better because I am in it. How is my life better because of you? Right now you seem to have brought me nothing but hurt.”

“I’m sorry for that. I knew Móirín from the time I was a child and I have no knowledge of how to woo an adult woman, but I will bring you flowers and bring you pleasure and be happy when Laoise calls you Mumma, because you saved her life and if that’s not something a mother does for her child, then I’m not sure what else it would be.” He slid his hand over her stomach and Bridach rested her forehead against his chin for a moment. “You’ll be a wonderful mumma to this child as well.”

His first acknowledgement of their child made the headache that had been plaguing her all morning disappear. “I kept waiting for you to say something about me being with child and you never did. I was starting to think you didn’t want her.”

“I want you and I want our child both.” He kissed her softly and they breathed in the scent of each other like they had been separated for much more than a day. “Will you come home to me tonight? Not to be a mother or to cook supper or anything like that. Just come home and be with me?”

One question was still unanswered for her; one question that would determine her answer. “Will you Choose me?”

“Ruarc told me that just as he tried to force himself on you, that I forced you to Choose me. I would like to fix that. I would like to fall in love with you before I Choose you, Bridach. That’s what I did with Móirín. You deserve the same respect.”

She couldn’t smell any deception in his words. He already cared for her and he would try to fall in love with her. Isn’t that what she wanted? “And if you don’t fall in love with me?”

“Then I will free you and you can choose to stay with me content with what we have, or go and seek someone who can love you.”

She rolled his words over in her head. Even if his affections never developed beyond where they were now, at the least he would care for and desired her and cared for their child, it would be a good life. He had accepted that she would be a mother to Laoise and Ruarc, and if he were to fall in battle, she would regret not having enjoyed the time she could have had with him. She was willing to take the risk that he might never love her. “Then I will come home to you tonight.”


	12. Chapter 12

Laoise darted ahead of Cian and Ruarc on their way home that evening. She slapped the door to their cottage and yelled, “I won!”  before she pushed inside and saw Bridach stirring dinner in the iron cauldron over the fire. “Make her go away,” Laoise shrieked and hid behind her da.

Cian smoothed his rough hand over his daughter’s hair. He had known this was going to be a struggle. “She’s not going away, Laoise.”

“If she’s doesn’t leave, then I’m going to leave.” The little girl stomped her foot to emphasize her determination.

Bridach didn’t look up when she spoke. “That’s too bad. I found strawberries this afternoon and I picked a bowl full just for you.”

Her little dark eyes narrowed. “Let me see them.”

Bridach held out the bowl so Laoise could see that it was filled with small red berries. Laoise reached to take it and Bridach pulled it out of her reach. “You have to have supper first. And then you can have the strawberries.”

Laoise decided to take the fight to a higher authority. “Da! That’s not fair.”

Cian shrugged helplessly. “She picked the strawberries. If she says you have to eat your supper first, then that is her rule. She doesn’t have to share them at all if she doesn’t want to.”

“You could take them away from her.”

Cian squatted down so he was on eye-level with his daughter. “Why would I do that?”

Bridach put the bowl of strawberries on the table and went about spooning up bowls of stew. She would let Cian deal with Laoise rather than push another wedge in between them. Ruarc didn’t wait for anything else. He grabbed himself some bench and set to eating.

“Because she’s a bad lady.”

“No, she’s not a bad lady. She did what was needful to protect you when you were misbehaving. Now I’m going to go have supper. If you want the strawberries, you’re going to need to eat supper too.” Cian sat down at the table and Laoise glared balefully at the three people eating supper without her. Finally, she stomped over to the table, snatched the bowl off of the table and carried it out the door that Cian had accidentally left open. Ruarc snorted and shoveled in another spoonful of food. Cian rolled his eyes and got up to go retrieve his daughter. He walked back in with the bowl of stew in one hand and Laoise tucked under the other arm. He plunked her down on the bench next to her brother, placed the bowl of stew in front of her, and then grabbed his own bowl and sat down next to Bridach this time, since Laoise was now in his seat. “Now eat your supper.”

Laoise pulled a face at her father but began to eat so Cian let it go. There wasn’t much conversation with dinner. Ruarc was content to keep his mouth full rather than talk and Bridach was worried about setting off Laoise if she said anything. The little girl ate her stew and then grabbed the bowl of strawberries. She put three in front of Ruarc, reached across the table to put a handful in front of her da, and then got up from the table and carried the bowl outside.

Bridach could hear the growl rumbling in Cian’s throat as he made to get up and retrieve his daughter again. She placed her hand over his on the table. “Sit. I ate some while I gathered as I figured she wouldn’t want to share. She’ll take time.”

“She’s being rude to you.”

Bridach didn’t remind him that he had behaved the same way the day before. “She’s being a child. Didn’t you have little brothers or sisters?”

“I’m the youngest. Three older sisters.”

A smile quirked one corner of her mouth. “Hmm. I would have thought you to understand women better growing up like that.”

“Are you implying I don’t understand you?”

Bridach raised an eyebrow in challenge. Cian turned to his son. “Ruarc, when you’re done eating, take Laoise with you to the river and teach her how to wash a bowl and spoon. Bridach and I are going for a walk.”

Bridach and Cian were almost out the door when Ruarc protested. “I’m not making her go to bed.”

“We’ll be back for that,” Bridach assured him.

Cian nuzzled her cheek. “If we manage not to get lost in the forest and decide not to come back,” he chuckled as Bridach’s skin flushed.

Ruarc made a face of disgust. “You’re not funny at all.”

Laoise was sitting on the bench by the door and pulled her bowl closer as they walked by. Cian took Bridach’s hand and kissed the back of it. Bridach smiled at him. It was thoughtful of him to show his support for her. Maybe she should have Ruarc talk to Laoise as well. It had worked on his father.

“Is there somewhere you would like to go, or should we just let our feet wander?”

Bridach searched through her memories of the last few weeks to suggest a destination. “I would like to see the standing stones closer. I haven’t had time to properly visit them.”

He led her around the embankment surrounding the village. On this side of the river there were wide fertile plains and farms had spread out as the town had grown. Other smaller villages had formed as well, as the farmers got far enough away that it was more practical to create a new hall for gathering. None of the other villages had a stone circle though. On the top of a hill that broke out above the trees stood a circle of thirteen stones older than anyone could remember. Even Gráinne didn’t know their age. Moss clung to their bases and grooves were carved into all the surfaces, some of them deeper than others, though whether done that way on purpose or through age he wasn’t sure.

Bridach eyed the stones warily. The power flowed through them like blood in her body and glowed in the starlight. The Morrigan had been worshipped here for ages, and the stones stood like her bones, giving structure to her power. No wonder Gráinne had felt pulled to the Goddess. It explained other things too, like the number of druids and priestesses in the area. She had been surprised at a full circle this far from Sí an Bhrú, but these stones either birthed them or drew them here. Bridach wondered if it was her own gift that had bound her to Cian all those years ago, or the Goddess setting one more stone in place before the war would start, bringing her to where she would be needed. No wonder she had blessed her Choosing. She needed to keep Bridach here, when her own will would have been to flee.

She slowly approached the circle, the stones looming overhead, at least twice her height. “Do the stones talk to you?”

Cian looked to the stones. She had been watching them with rapt awe. To him they were commonplace, something he had grown up with that faded into the background. She was looking at them like they were precious gems or deposits of gold. “The stones? No. Just the trees.”

“Do many of the people here have gifts like yours?”

“Aye, more than a handful.”

Bridach looked through the gap formed by two of the dolmans into the empty space in the center. She could sense a presence there, though she couldn’t see anyone. “Have you ever gone into the circle?”

Cian shuddered at the thought. “No. Always seemed like it weren’t my place.”

Bridach placed her hand against one of the stones, carefully not touching any of the rune lines. The power thrummed under her palm like a slow heartbeat. “Did you mean what you said, about the Goddess bringing me here to you specifically? Or was it just your body knowing that I was going into heat and Olcán sniffing around me?”

“I don’t presume to know the ways of the Goddess, but I do wonder why you saw me, and not Gráinne or Olcán or Tadgh. And the mark on your thigh. Why would she heal you when you Chose me? There are many things about this I don’t understand, and it makes me wary that She brought you here and could so easily take you away again.”

She stroked the old rock, letting her fingers brush against the lichen clinging to the aged surface. The heartbeat continued to throb under her hand. “I think I know why she showed me you.”

“And why’s that, lass?”

She dropped her hand from the stone and turned to her mate. “A very long time ago, you found a lost girl at a howling and dried her tears and helped her find her pack again. You probably don’t even remember.”

A memory flashed across his face of a crying child with hair like fire. “That was you?”

“That was me. I watched you for the rest of the gathering and you were so handsome and charming and I said the words of the choice ceremony and apparently it stuck. I don’t know why, for I have heard other children play at choosing, but for some reason the words took root with me. I have never loved anyone else but you since that day. I think She showed me you so I would know where to go.”

His world tilted like he was trying to walk after too many mugs of ale. “Then why were you scared of me when I tried to help you? You didn’t become human again until after I showed myself as faoladh.”

“I wasn’t scared of you. I was scared of what I had seen. What the vision had shown me.”

“The war? Me fighting?”

“You dying. I have seen you die, Cian, and I came to prevent it, but when I saw you again I was scared my heart would stop beating if I had to watch you die in front of me. Only knowing that I would die without your help made me reveal who I was.”

He cupped her face, tilting it up so that the crescent moon illuminated her features. “That's why you were so insistent on leaving. You didn’t want to be here when I died.”

“I know what it is like to lose someone you love and I didn’t want to go through that again. I thought it would be easier if I didn’t…” She brushed her fingers over his face with the same reverence she had shown the sacred stones behind her. “I know the taste of your skin now and the sound of your pleasure. I don’t know how I will survive if you die, so I will fight beside you to prevent that from happening.”

“You could still leave. I haven’t bound you to me.” His hand closed in her hair, belying his words.

“I have bound myself. Twice now. And our child is a third. And the Morrigan has told me to stay and protect her warriors. And so I will, and most of all I will protect you.” She kissed him softly and then turned back to the stones. With a rare sense of peace, she carefully placed just the tip of her finger against the rune line and gasped as the energy surged through her. Cian saw the flare of light and grabbed her as she sagged.

He sank to the ground with her in his arms, carefully avoiding any contact with the stones. “Bridach?” Her eyes were closed again just like they had been at the base of the yew. He heaved a sigh of relief when they fluttered open. “What were you doing, lass?”

“Learning what the Morrigan would have me do.”

“All I saw was a flash of light and you sagging like you’d taken a blow to the head.”

She smiled up at him, her eyes still unfocused. “I can see your light.”

“I think maybe you have taken a bit of a blow.”

“No. I’ve been able to see it since you found me by the pool. You glow green like sunlight through leaves.” Her bemused smile both concerned him and softened his heart. “Can you not see mine?”

“Nay. You look like any other woman.” Her eyes narrowed, and Cian hurriedly added, “Much more beautiful of course. When I am a wolf, I can see your scent though, like you’ve left a trail of sparks behind you.”

“That’s what my light looks like. I’m surrounded in fire.” She touched his face, letting her fingers linger over his beard. “Does it seem strange to you that fire should love a tree?”

“Fire needs fuel to burn.”

Pain lines marred her forehead. “I need you, and yet, I fear I am your destruction.”

“Fire can be good for the forest, too, my girl. It clears away the old and gives a chance for the new to come to life.” He dropped his hand from her cheek to her stomach. “A new son.”

“A new daughter, rather. I carry a girl child.”

Cian rubbed his hand gently over her stomach, imagining his child growing. “You sound very certain of that.”

“I am. I can see her light already. She glows bright like a fire and throws off green sparks.”

He let out a huff of amusement. “Of course she’s green fire; she’s our child.” His hand tightened on her stomach as he kissed her. Bridach held onto the front of his tunic as his arm brought her closer to him. Cian tilted his head so he could kiss her more, letting his hand slide around her waist to hold her pressed against him. She heated his blood like the fire of her spirit warmed his body. He was regretting that she was in a dress rather than her tunic and trousers as he cupped her breast through the fabric, feeling it constrained by her breast band as well. He much preferred it when she was freer to his touch. Their kissing was interrupted by a familiar voice.

“I should have known you would be behind this.”

Bridach looked up at Olcán. “Behind what?”

“It felt like someone threw a boulder into a pond. Did you do something to the stones?”

Cian felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. “She barely touched them.”

“You should know better,” Gráinne added, cresting the hill behind Olcán.

“It was a single fingertip,” Bridach said, running her hand through her hair to attempt to bring it back into order.

“And you’ve disturbed everyone with the least bit of sensitivity in a three day’s walk.”

Bridach struggled to her feet, not liking the two peering down at her from such a height. “I beg pardon. It was not my intent.”

“You need full training, Bridach. You are too dangerous half trained, able to access the power but not control it.”

She looked back and forth between the priestess and her mate. The blue moon on Gráinne’s forehead was the same phase as the moon overhead. “I’m not sure I want to be a priestess, Gráinne. I don’t think it is my path.”

Olcán leaned on his staff as he watched her. “Then become a druid. The early steps on the path are similar enough that you will quickly recover the ground needed.”

Bridach looked at Cian again. His earlier gentle smile had faded to impassivity and it was like the sun illuminating his trees had gone behind a cloud. “And if I choose neither path? If I decide on a different life?”

Gráinne held out her hand and a ball of spinning cloud appeared in her palm. “You can do this with fire, no?”

“Yes.” She held out her hand to summon her own element but Gráinne shook her head and she let it drop to her side. Cian took it and she laced her fingers through his.

Gráinne didn’t move to touch the stones. She simply closed her eyes and a storm erupted from her hand. The wind tore at Bridach’s hair, driving it into her eyes with stinging force. Cian wrapped himself around her to shield her and she burrowed against him. Cian hid his face in her neck, trying to protect his own eyes from the sticks and pebbles whipping through the air around them. As quickly as the maelstrom had appeared it was gone, and the debris fell like rain around them. “Imagine you doing that with fire, Bridach, but not knowing how to control it. How to bring it to heel. You’ve done it in the past, I think, if I read your fears correctly. You have to learn to control it or you will bring firestorms down on us all. If you don’t, you have to leave. You can’t dwell this close to the stones and not be trained.”

Cian still had her wrapped in his arms. “And who will make her leave?”

“I will, Cian,” Gráinne answered, “in one way or another.”

Cian pushed Bridach behind him at the threat. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Olcán stepped forward, putting himself in between the two. “She will do what is necessary for the safety of this village, Cian. I will as well. No one wants Bridach to leave, but she is dangerous.”

“I will think on what you’ve said,” Bridach responded as she stepped forward next to Cian. She slid her arm around his waist and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

“Good,” Gráinne nodded. “While the three of you are up here, you might as well make use of it and send out the summons. I do not see us having much more time to wait.”

Cian nodded. “We’ll do that.”

Gráinne walked back down the hill and into the trees as Cian began to howl. Her throat vibrated with a desire to tilt back and release her own cry into the cloud bedecked sky, but her howl had been silent for centuries now. Olcán and Bridach added their voices to his, calling the faoladh to gather. The packs needed to plan for war.

_[Photo](http://wallpaperdreams.com/background/508/the-callanish-stone-circle.html) is of the Callanish Stone Circle in the Outer Hebrides._


	13. Chapter 13

Olcán had returned to his home, leaving Cian and Bridach standing on top of the hillside. Bridach stood facing the stones, but her eyes were closed. Cian watched her, not certain of what she was doing but not wanting to disturb whatever it was. There was an unnatural stillness about her, as if she were absent from her body. Even her unbound hair lay still, not stirring in the breeze that danced around the stones like fairies at a revel.

“They’re right, you know,” she said.

“About what?”

“I need better control. I can feel the energy here. It’s been seeping into me every day and between what these stones feed into me and what the Morrigan poured into me, I am a vessel in danger of overflowing. Or cracking. I should be exhausted after what Olcán and I did this morning, but that brief touch completely filled me. I don’t know how to get the power should I need it without falling on my arse, and I don’t know how to keep from losing control of it once I have it and calling down a firestorm.” Her eyelids twitched. “Again,” she whispered.

“You’ve lost control before?”

“I warned you. Ash and ruin follow me.

“What happened?”

She was still as a statue and her eyes were as unseeing. “I have not been completely honest with you about my past. I find it makes people uncomfortable and so I omit large portions of it.”

“You told me you were orphaned when you accidentally called the bean sidhe when you were four and then the priestess took you in. But,” the things she had already told him tonight slotted into place, “you were with a pack at a howling when you were seven.”

“Right. Another pack took me in. I told them my pack had been killed in a fight over territory but I had managed to escape. I didn’t realize then how valuable females of a different bloodline were then. I bled for the first time at eleven, and that’s when I started noticing the extra attention. I went through one heat refusing all of them saying I was too young. When I was thirteen it all came to a head. A few of them cornered me, said they were going to breed me whether I chose them or not. One of them was the pack leader’s son.” She opened her eyes and looked at Cian. “How old were you when the trees first talked to you?”

“Five.”

“I learned that I could call fire when I was four. It was freezing cold, I hadn’t found another pack yet, and I called it out of the air. It’s what kept me from dying. I thought everyone could call fire, and when I learned that not everyone could, I kept it secret. I was already different enough.”

“Does the fire talk to you?”

“It sings to me like a lover. I could let myself go up in flames and it would be the most glorious feeling ever. The power here beckons, Cian. I can feel it kissing my flesh. I didn’t want to stay because I didn’t want to watch you die. I still don’t want to stay because I fear I may cause your death and many others by letting the stones seduce me.”

Her hands drifted towards the stone in front of her.

Cian grabbed her wrists and her eyes flew open but they didn’t see him. An icy chill blew down his spine as he saw flames reflecting in her eyes. “Bridach!” She blinked a few times and then lifted her face to him, moving as slowly as honey on a cold morning. Her eyes were now her normal luminescent hazel. “I think we should leave now.”

Without waiting for an answer he tugged her from the hilltop. It was like guiding a dreamwalker at first, but the further they got from the stones, the more responsive she became. “I don’t think you should go to the stones by yourself, lass. Not if that’s the effect they have on you.”

“I need to be trained. The thought of it is slightly less scary than the thought of what I might do if left to be the power’s plaything.”

Cian nodded. His urge to keep her away from the power that had changed Gráinne was outweighed by his need not to see Bridach destroy herself. Simply holding her hand felt like trying to grapple lightning as the power flowing through her set the fine amber hairs on her arms on end.

“I’m scared, Cian. I can feel it trying to escape. It wants to do something and I don’t know what to do with it.”

Cian had no idea what to do either. The trees never took hold of him like this. He dropped her hand as she started to tremble. Sparks of fire danced over her hair. He gritted his teeth and picked her up and ran for the path to Olcán’s cottage tucked into the trees. With a heavy fist he pounded on the door.

Olcán opened the door and took one look at Bridach’s face screwed shut as she tried to keep the sparks wreathing her from turning into a conflagration. “Bring her in.”

Olcán grabbed his staff in one hand and pressed his palm to the center of her forehead. The large blue stone that tipped his staff began to glow as the sparks disappeared. After a long silent time, Bridach opened her eyes. Her hair no longer shimmered with light. The clear blue glow of Olcán’s staff was almost blinding, illuminating the interior of his cottage by throwing everything into harsh relief.

“Do you choose the path of a druid, little sister?”

She closed her eyes again and took a deep breath. The scent of the forest entered her nostrils, of damp soil that would allow her to smoulder but not combust. Another breath filled her with the salt of the far-off sea, and the fine spray of crashing waves misted across her cheeks. Cian’s breath anointed her face as he held her, too worried to release her to stand on her own.

Bridach opened her eyes. “Yes. I choose to be a druid.”

Cian slowly set her down. She belonged to something else now. Someone else now. His hand dragged over the bare skin of her arm before he let it drop.

“But I have made a prior Choice to Cian. I will not follow this path if it breaks the vows with which I have already bound myself.”

Olcán smiled as Cian wrapped an arm around her, letting his hand rest on her stomach. “You do not have to relinquish any of your prior life. Druids believe in the cycle of life and our place on the ever spinning wheel.” He turned away from her. “Now come look at these stones.”

There were several different strange rocks sitting on a shelf. Some were as smooth as an egg, others were cragged and shot through with different colors. One glowed a flickering orange and red. “Why does it shine like that?”

Cian couldn’t see any of the rocks shining. Olcán’s eyes narrowed slightly as he nodded to himself. “Pick it up.”

Bridach reached for the rock. She hesitated when her fingers came within a hair’s breadth from the stone. It radiated warmth against her skin, like the way Cian felt wrapped around her in the dark. With a feeling like the ground was about to drop out from underneath her feet, she picked up the sinuously curving stone. A single ringing tone like the purest golden bell sounded and shivered in the air. The air around her scorched her lungs like she was standing in front of the largest bonfire, and then with an audible snap, the sound and heat were gone and she was standing in Olcán’s cabin again, holding a stone that no longer shone.

“What was that?” Cian asked the question in Bridach’s eyes.

“That was a druid choosing her focus stone.” Bridach brought the stone up to her face for a closer inspection. She could feel its heartbeat though it now slumbered.

“I’ve never seen a stone like that before.”

Olcán nodded again as he watched her. “There aren’t many and the druids keep them well guarded. It’s called dragonfire.” That she had seen it shining worried him. Dragonfire was particularly volatile. It made for incredibly powerful workings, but also dangerously erratic ones. “Cian, I beg permission to come sleep by your fire tonight. I think I should be close to Bridach in case anything else happens tonight, but I would feel better with her further away from the stone circle.”

“Of course.” Cian stared at the staff in Olcán’s hand. He had always thought the stone set in its tip was merely decorative, but it still glowed faintly. “I would ask permission to make Bridach her staff from the yew tree.” His chest itched at asking permission for anything from the man.

Olcán watched Bridach still staring mesmerized at the stone she held in front of her face. While he never would have given permission to fell a yew just for this purpose, he would gladly turn the one they had available to this purpose. She would be well served by having such an ancient and powerful tree grounding her power. “I think that is a wise idea.”


	14. Chapter 14

Cian stood in the dim light provided by the banked fire and gazed at Bridach, curled up asleep in bed with her stone nestled between her breasts. One of her hands was clasped over it protectively. She hadn’t set it down since she had picked it up in Olcán’s cabin earlier that night.

He let the hanging drop and went to sit with Olcán near the fire. “Is it normal for her to be that attached to her stone? I see you without your staff often enough.”

“The more time she spends with it now, the easier it will be for her to use it. It’s good for her right now because it’s drawing off some of the power she has stored in her.” He stared at the fire and stroked a hand absently over his staff that lay across his thighs. The blue stone still glowed. “Has she spoken to you of her time at Sí an Bhrú at all?”

“A little. Just that the priestess who was training her didn’t like her to shift into her faoladh form. She said that it interfered with her ability to listen to the Goddess.” When Olcán didn’t respond but continued to stare broodily into the fire, Cian asked him why he wanted to know.

“When I drew the extra power off of her, I’ve never felt anyone transfer power that easily. It just flows through her as naturally as breathing. That normally takes years of practice. And she shouldn’t have absorbed that amount of power from the stones without purposefully drawing it into her. It’s like she is unconsciously soaking up all the power around her. I have no idea how that’s possible though if she was at Sí an Bhrú though. The circle here is like a pond compared to the ocean that is that sacred place. She would have exploded after a few hours and yet she has been there for years.”

Cian wondered if this was part of her past that she hadn’t been so forthcoming about. “Maybe it’s something the Morrigan did to her.”

“Perhaps. I fear we may have to take her away from here if she doesn’t learn to control it quickly. I can only hold so much power and I worry about what her stone may do with the amount of power she’s capable of feeding it.”

“They act on their own?”

“No, but a stone is a vessel. It can only hold so much. Most stones just break when they are overloaded. Dragonfire explodes.”

He looked up at the loft where his children slumbered. “How bad?”

“They say that a man used to be able to walk on foot to the land on the other side of the narrow sea until dragonfire fell from the sky and exploded when it landed. Every priestess and druid drove themselves to exhaustion to hold back the damage from destroying our lands, and eventually we called the ocean to fill in the hole that remained, dividing what used to be one realm into two.”

Cian lurched to his feet. “And you want me to let her sleep with that danger nestled into her bosom like a suckling child?”

“It’s the only thing holding her steady right now, Cian. Take it away from her and she’s likely to go up in flames herself.”

He pulled back the curtain and stared at her sleeping calmly. Ruarc snored softly overhead. “Then how do I keep her safe? How do I keep my children safe with her here?”

“I don’t know, Cian. Something is wrong here. Something is wrong with her and I don’t know what it is yet.”

That last word was where he hung his hope. “Yet? You will though?”

“I will do my best, and if I cannot identify the source of the wrongness that is rooted in her, I know others more powerful than I who will give aid if called.”

He turned back to the woman in his bed. “Is it safe to sleep next to her tonight? I would prefer her not to be alone.” He remembered her asking to not be alone when the bad dreams came.

“You are the safest person for her to be with. Tomorrow you will have to tell me exactly what happened when she chose you. I have never seen a choice bond mark a soul the way it has marked her. Now though, I need to think.”

His eyes went distant and he felt as absent as Bridach had been while standing in front of the stones. Trusting that the man was in better control of himself than Bridach had been, he went to bed. Bridach woke as he joined her on top of the furs. She felt fevered to his touch.

“Can you talk to the trees from here?” she asked.

“Nay, lass. It’s too far.”

She clasped his face in her hands and kissed him. When his lips parted, she breathed into him, but the air sparked and tingled against his lungs. She kept kissing him until he felt like he should be glowing. She pulled back long enough to whisper, “Now try.” Her mouth closed on his again before he could explain that it didn’t work that way but to humor her he reached out to see if he could contact any of the trees across the river. He froze when one of them stirred from its nightly slumber long enough to brush a leaf’s touch across his consciousness.

_Where are you? We can hear you but cannot see you._

Bridach smiled up at him as he tried to think of an answer.  **I am still in my home**

_You have never come to us from so far away before._

**I have never had the power to do so before**

_The firewolf. She makes you stronger._

**Yes**

_That is good. We will always be here now._

Cian felt the tree drift back asleep and turned his attention to the woman underneath him. “How did you do that?”

She smiled sleepily. “I Chose you. We are bound to each other. My power is yours.” She kissed him again, a soft caress that left his mouth tingling and then her eyes drifted shut. Her hand dropped from his hair to curl around the stone.

>< 

Cian and Bridach were jarred awake in the middle of the night by the feel of the earth shaking itself apart under their feet. Nothing in the cottage moved. The curtain wasn’t even shaking until Olcán thrust it aside. “I see you felt that as well.”

“What is that?”

“Something is wrong with the stones. That’s them screaming in anger.”

Olcán didn’t wait to answer any more questions, and Cian and Bridach ran after him as soon as they had tugged on clothes. Others were outside, and seemed to be taking their cue from Olcán as they were all heading up to the stones. The blacksmith had his hammer in his hand and Cian swore to himself for not bringing his axe. At some point in this mess he had forgotten that many problems could be dealt with by a well-placed axe blow.  

 Bridach was panting as she crested the hill where the stones stood. The circle was completely undisturbed which surprised her from the force of its screaming. She and Cian walked forward to stand next to Olcán and Gráinne. They were facing thirteen newcomers, a collection of men and women, all in formal ritual robes. The druids all had their staves, and the priestesses were wearing their headdresses, moonstones held in place over the moon tattoos on their foreheads.

“Sisters.” Gráinne politely greeted the newcomers.

“Great-grandmother,” the one in front replied.

Bridach heard a ripple of surprise whisper through the people behind her. From the quick flash of emotion over the faces of the people behind the priestess, this was new information to them as well. Bridach hadn’t known for certain the relationship, but from the first moment she had seen Gráinne, she had recognized her as kin to the woman who had been training her for so long. They looked like sisters, but Gráinne felt like a cooling draught at the end of the long day where Saraid was brambles and thorns.

Gráinne nodded her head. “What brings you to visit after so long, child? And with all your friends?”

“I have come to reclaim something that is mine.”

“I think you must be mistaken, child. There is nothing here that belongs to you.”

Cian wrapped his arm around Bridach’s waist. They were not taking her away from him.

“Honesty is the first rule, crone. Do the lies come easy to you now that you have abandoned the path for so many years?”

“It is you and your kind who have twisted the path to a new direction. I still walk the path of the Goddess, and I say to you again there is nothing here that belongs to you.”

Bridach’s hair whipped Cian in the face as a sudden wind whirled around the top of the hill.

Saraid laughed as her hair danced around her. “You think to frighten me with a little wind? I am not a child. I have more power than you can ever dream of.”

Bridach didn’t have time for the establishment of a pecking order. Her skin was already flush with heat. “I’m not going with you, Saraid. I am on a different path now.” Cian’s fingers dug into her side.

“You forget, Bridach. You made your vows. You are bound to this path. Now come give me one of your  kisses again and all will be forgiven.”

“I never made final vows, Saraid, as much as you pushed me to do so.”

“It doesn’t matter. You’ve made enough. Come with me now.” Her words crackled and boomed, lightning and thunder together. Bridach stood immobile and Saraid’s eyes narrowed. “I said come here.” She held out her hand and again Bridach didn’t move.

“I told you, I am on a different path now.” She slipped her hand into Cian’s. “I Choose to stay here.”

Saraid took a moment to look at the man standing next to her recalcitrant property. “Ah, you have found a mate. Someone to rut against in the heat and the dark. I will not let you waste yourself here in this little village. Don’t make me break the bond you have with him.”

Cian’s cheek stung where a spark from Bridach’s hair hit it. “I would like to see you try, sister,” she snarled.

“You challenge me? Here in the stones with a full circle at my bidding? Have you gone insane since you ran away in the night?”

“I am not alone either, Saraid. If it comes to battle I have my pack, though not all of them can go on four legs.”

Wisps of smoke began to emanate from her and Cian wanted to drag her down the hill and throw her in the river until she calmed again. Instead he reached for the trees. **Help me Help her This will end us all**

_We hear you, walking son._

The distant trees waved against the darkness and the caw of ravens came drifting up the hill. The druids all turned towards the sound but neither Saraid or Bridach were distracted.

“Yes, but what damage will I do in the fight?” Saraid’s smile was as feral as if she were faoladh herself. “You could lose so many of your pack. You could lose your mate. You could lose that child you carry in your belly. You should lose that child anyway. Your womb is for ritual children only.”

Cian shoved Bridach behind him. “You will not touch her or our child.”

Bridach pushed him aside with a glare. “My womb is my own. I do not walk your path. I have Chosen and been chosen. My place is here and I will kill anyone who tries to take me away from here.”

Saraid stepped forward from the line of her circle and Bridach advanced on her. “You lie, child. I can see the bonds on you. He has not Chosen you. The chains I put on your soul are older than you coming here and giving in to a lesser life.”

“Look deeper, Saraid. I Chose him as a child.” She pulled aside the fabric of her skirt so the raven tattoo was fully visible. “And it is the Morrigan who chose me. She blessed me binding myself to Cian. Even you can’t break that.”

Saraid stopped and looked at the tattoo, and then looked deeper. No one breathed as they waited to see who was stronger. Saraid shook herself and nodded slowly. “You are right. I cannot break that bond.” She took a few steps back towards the waiting priestesses but then stopped and turned back to look at Cian. “But I can kill him. That will end the bond.”

Bridach howled and charged the priestess. She dropped her stone and leapt, changing into a wolf in midair and barreled into the woman’s chest, knocking her backward. Her fangs snapped the priestess’s  throat before she hit the ground.

Bridach shifted back into a woman and stood over the body of the dead High Priestess. Flame wreathed her body and smoke rose from her shoulders. Blood dripped from her face. “Now, does anyone else feel like threatening my pack?”

The other twelve backed away from her.

“Good. Now, Cian,” she looked to him with bonfires in her eyes, “can you get me away from here before anything else happens?”

_Help arrives, walking son._

He turned his face to the treeline and saw druids and priestesses coming forth. None of them were formally attired for ritual but he saw the staves in the hands of the druids. He grabbed her and ran towards them. This time Olcán chased after them. Cian sank to the ground and was quickly surrounded. Hands reached for her skin and he watched as her fire shrank and ebbed, leaving her dress singed and her face smeared with ash as the druid stones lit up the night.


	15. Chapter 15

Cian sat on the narrow bed in the strange tent. Bridach was stretched out asleep, her head resting on his thigh, her stone tucked into her bosom like a child again. His fingers combed through her hair, feeling it slide like water through his fingers. Touching her soothed him, as did the lack of sparks flying from her hair. His tunic bore scorch marks from carrying her.

Olcán pulled back the tent flap and entered. He slumped on the other cot, exhausted from a long night’s work that had lasted through the morning. “Has your ability changed since she came here?”

Cian didn’t bother looking up. He kept stroking her hair, wondering what he was going to do with this strange creature of a woman who was endearing herself to him even as she endangered him. “It’s stronger. Last night, before all the priestesses arrived, she kissed me and I don’t know how but she fed me energy, like breathing it into my body.”

“And before that? Had anything changed?”

“Nay.”

Olcán watched as Cian carefully groomed his sleeping mate’s hair. “I don’t think she can take power from people.”

“Well, that’s good, no?”

“Not that she doesn’t know how. I don’t think she can. She cleaned this entire campsite using just the power inside her and that she had in her stone.”

They had decided to move the errant priestesses as far away from the standing stones as feasible. The druids they had brought as well, and their staffs were propped in a corner of the tent.

“That must be why she feels so calm and cool.”

“She used everything she had inside her first and cleaned more of the darkness than I thought possible. I told her to take power from me to finish the work and she couldn’t no matter how hard she tried, but what was stranger is that I couldn’t give her power either. I’ve never been barred like that from gifting power. Then I suggested she take it from her stone and she could do that as easy as drinking from a river.”

There was a knocking on the tent pole and then the flap opened and Gráinne entered. “She sleeps now?”

Cian still had his fingers in her hair. “I think she exhausted herself.”

“That may be a good thing for now. It will give us time to decide what to do with her.”

Cian gripped Bridach’s shoulder. He was tired of people treating her like a game piece or a tool. “You’re not doing  _anything_  to her.”

“I see she has a stone. Did she choose that herself?”

Olcán answered for him. “Yes.”

Gráinne ran her hand over her face. For the first time Cian noticed fine wrinkles around the corners of her eyes and mouth. “A druid with uncontrolled access to the power of a circle. You realize how disastrous this could be, don’t you? Especially with a dragonfire stone?”

Olcán nodded and Cian looked back and forth between the two of them. The tent felt suddenly darker. “Olcán has access to the stone circle and he’s had that rock and you’ve never seemed concerned before.”

“Olcán can’t access the power in the circles. And it’s not having the stone in his possession, its having a connection with it. Look at the way she holds it.”

Cian didn’t need to look down to know she cradled it with a tenderness she had never shown him. Olcán spoke again. “He saw her choose it.”

“Then you understand.”

Cian huffed. There were so many things about what had been happening that he didn’t understand. “I know about dragonfire stones. Why can’t Olcán access the power in the circle?”

“Because he’s a druid. They don’t have the training.”

“What prevents him from learning it?”

Olcán took over. “It is not the way of a druid,” he said, as if that explained it all.

Cian hmphed in derision. “So nothing then? Tradition doesn’t bind that strongly in the face of that much available power.”

“Druids get our power from the world around us. Every living thing generates power, though not all can use it. That power is why you can talk to the trees. The forests and fields generate power. Everything that grows gives druids their power. And druids absorb that power just by existing. We can pull in more of it if we need it, but there is a limit to how much is available to us at any one time. That’s one of the reasons druids use stones.”

“Like a granary to get you through winter.”

“Exactly. And priestesses can’t do that.”

Cian narrowed his eyes as he regarded Gráinne. She had been both a grandmother and a sister to him, and yet he had never been able to completely trust her. Her loyalty didn’t lie with the pack. “Can’t or don’t?”

“Can’t. It’s part of the initiation. It changes something about the sensitivity to power that the gifted have. I can see the power, and I can see druids working it, but I can’t touch it. I have to gather my power from the stone circles.”

Cian had never known there was a difference between the two when it came to how they got the power, just how they used it. The priestesses led the rituals and kept the calendar turning. They kept the people following the will of the goddess. The druids watched the world and kept it balanced, rooting out disease and darkness before it could spread. “And you just go touch them and take what you need?”

Gráinne shook her head and slowly sat down in the only chair of the room with a pained sigh. “No. There is ritual involved. It takes time. The more priestesses you have, the more power can be evoked and used.”

This didn’t make any sense. “But Bridach…”

Olcán answered when Cian didn’t continue. “She absorbs power out of the circle like a druid takes it from the ground. I’ve never seen someone take that much power that fast. Just minutes and she’s in danger of going up in flames.”

Gráinne drummed her fingers against the arm of her chair. “If she’s been at Sí an Bhrú for years, they must have learned to control her.”

“Or they’ve been using it,” Olcán suggested.

Gráinne shook her head again. “Saraid asked for a kiss. That’s not ritual, but I think that’s one of the ways she has been taught to transfer power.”

“It’s what she did to me,” Cian added.

“And me.”

The two men looked at the priestess. “When did she kiss you?”

“The first time she saw me when I came to check her wound. She kissed me and gave me power. I think she was acting out of habit because I look so much like my great-granddaughter. I stopped her though because she was giving me her last dregs and she needed them herself to heal.”

That brought to mind one of the many things about the night’s events that had surprised him. “You never mentioned having a child before, much less great grandchildren.”

“Si an Bhru used to be my circle. Saraid and I used to stand next to each other through the bonfire nights, keeping the flames at their height. But she and I disagreed on some things. We watched the eastern isles fall to the invaders and the worship of the goddess diminish. Saraid wanted to lead an army and drive them back to their lands and I thought that was not the way of the goddess. She is crone as well as maiden, the waning moon as well as the waxing.”

Olcán’s hand played over some of the runes decorating his staff. “Death is part of the circle, and gives way to new life.”

Gráinne nodded solemnly. “She persuaded enough of the sisters there to her way that I eventually was forced out.”

“And you came here.”

“Yes, several hundred cycles ago I came back to my home village and I waited for the faces I saw in vision standing in flames at the stones.”

“Bridach,” said Cian.

“And you, Cian.”

His jaw dropped before he hurriedly straightened himself up. “You’ve been waiting for me hundreds of cycles?”

“Morrigan sees the future with more clarity than most of us can see our past.”

Cian looked down at the head of red hair still resting against his leg. She had cleaned the camp of all taint to Olcán and Gráinne’s satisfaction by herself with as little show of effort as braiding her hair, but it had taken a deeper toll on her. He pulled the blanket up higher over her now that she wasn’t being heated by an inner burning. “And what are we supposed to do now?”

“I am not sure. I thought there would be a larger battle with Saraid over who controls the religious power on this island. You see the difference between the druids and priestesses who stood with us as compared to the ones standing with her.”

Cian snorted in amusement. “We aren’t nearly as well washed or well dressed.”

“That’s the polite way of putting it. There has been a sifting over the last centuries as those who would follow the eternal circle have been pushed out to the edges by those who would choose to steer the wheel according to their own desires. I did not think to see the day when a druid would choose to wear a robe for ritual work rather than an aspect.”

Cian thought about the circle of thirteen who had tried to take Bridach. They had looked soft and pale and rich with the impervious stare of someone who is used to being obeyed without question. They looked like they could have lived on the moon for as closely as they resembled the people he lived and worked with. “Is this why the people have declined over the last few centuries? Because those who ought to be seeing to the wellbeing of field and family have been fighting amongst themselves?”

Olcán nodded, not at all surprised how quickly the pack leader was putting together the shards of the pot to see the whole picture. “Probably.  I know the faoladh bards tell of villages that have been abandoned and fields lying fallow because there are not enough children surviving to keep them.”

“So the people are shrinking, there are invaders coming from across the sea, the worship of the Goddess is being led astray, and there could be more people coming to try and claim Bridach as a tool to be used?”

“I don’t trust myself to be alone with her,” Gráinne confessed. “Not now that I know what she can do. Depending on how many people know what Saraid did to her and what she’s capable of, I can see others trying to take her.”

Olcán chuckled at the memory of Bridach standing over the corpse of her foe, blood and fire dripping from her in equal measure. “Of course, if she kills a few more as easily as she did Saraid, they might be more leery about attempting anything.”

Gráinne glared at the druid who quickly stopped laughing. “I don’t think anyone else will forget she’s a faoladh. Saraid hated that any of that legacy tainted her blood.”

Cian’s hackles rose. “And who taught her that?”

“Not I, no matter what the tales told around the fires whisper.” Gráinne bared her throat to Cian for a brief instant. “I didn’t give up my blood lightly, but traded one gift for another at the goddess’s behest.”

A sneer twisted his upper lip, showing teeth that were pointier than they should be in a human mouth. “Power.”

“No. My power comes from a long life of worship and ritual. It is the long life that was the goddess’s gift to me. A watcher for the signs, and someone to act when needed.”

Cian shook his head as his lip rippled again. “At least you were given a choice. Bridach was plucked out of the forest and made to serve.”

Gráinne stood and crossed the few steps across the woven rug to stand in front of Cian. Her thin fingers gripped his chin and she forced him to look up at her. The blue of her moon tattoo seemed to pulse in the filtered light of the tent as her eyes fixed him with a stare that sifted through his soul like picking wheat from chaff. “Why are you so mad at the goddess, Cian? How have you been hurt at her hand?”

Cian tried to keep his secrets tucked away but found them spilling out his mouth. “She let Móirín die.”

Gráinne gently smoothed Cian’s hair like a mother with a tired child. “Death is not the end, Cian. Nor is it a punishment.”

“Except for those left behind. She was my mate.”

“And the goddess has brought you another.”

Cian stilled at her serene words. They rested on the surface of his mind for a moment before they sank down into his heart, where they added fuel to the fire of his anger. He lurched to his feet. “Are you telling me that the goddess let Móirín die because of Bridach?” He grabbed Gráinne’s wrists and held them against her chest to keep her from fleeing. “Are you telling me that  _you_ let Móirín die because of her? That you didn’t heal my wife so I would breed with another woman?”

Gráinne maintained her calm spirit as Cian shouted at her. “I kept her from suffering. It was the Morrigan’s will, Cian. There was no way I could have healed that wound and you know it.”

“Did you even try?” He glared at Olcán. “Did  _either_ of you try?”

Olcán shook his head. “There wasn’t anything we could do.”

“Then why didn’t the Morrigan heal her, the way she did Bridach?” His voice was the anguished cry of a child. It was the sound of Ruarc learning his mam had died. It was the sound of his heart splintering into pieces again. “I would have loved her with a raven tattoo on her stomach or a scar.”

Her words were still gentle as she answered. This was part of being a priestess as much as standing in the circle as the equinox balanced overhead, though much less preferred. “Because Móirín isn’t Bridach, Cian, and without you, Bridach wouldn’t have come here.”

“So I have to trade the love of my life for some creature of fire masquerading as a woman who is a threat to herself and everyone around her? For what purpose? To make sure that she can play her part in the goddess’s machinations? Maybe the goddess should just accept this is the end of her turn on the wheel and make way for another instead of messing us about so much. Does the Morrigan love Bridach more than Móirín? More than me? Why is she so much more important than everyone else? But then maybe I understand the goddess after all; I would have sacrificed every last one of you to save Móirín.”

“You were never supposed to marry her.”

“Don’t,” he snarled and then took a deep breath to calm himself. “Don’t say that.” He dropped Gráinne’s wrists like they were something foul.

“It’s the truth, Cian.  The Morrigan blessed Bridach’s Choice of you as soon as she made it. Móirín was supposed to die a few years later but you two got carried away and she ended up with child, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you losing a wife and a child so young, so I interceded. You had those years with Móirín because of the goddess’s kindness, and you have Ruarc and Laoise because of her as well. She could have easily taken them both in childbirth but she didn’t, and Bridach has born the pain of that, not only years of loneliness, of watching the man she loves marry another, of visions of you bedding Móirín and giving your love to another, of someone else bearing your children, but now the pain of coming second in your heart. And since she’s been awake since you yelled at me about letting Móirín die, she bears the fresh pain of your words.”

Cian whirled around to see Bridach’s face pale as milk as she stared at him, her green eyes dead as frost-bitten leaves. Pain lines radiated from the corners of her eyes and wrinkled her brow. Cian reached out a hand to her and then let it drop.

Bridach slowly rose, still clutching her stone. “I have actually been awake since you entered, Gráinne, but wanted to hear what you had to say about what you were going to do with me. You have played with my life for the goddess’s benefit like Saraid played with it for her own, and Cian has no want of it though it has been warp to his weft since I was a child. But then why should the priestesses differ from the goddess they serve, for I have been her plaything since I was a girl. The only of you who actually appears to care about my wellbeing is Olcán. I think I will find somewhere else to sleep until you three decide what to do with me. Perhaps  _I_ should decide what to do with me. That would be a change.”

Cian reached for her as she flipped open the flap of the tent but yanked his hand back when her entire arm was suddenly wreathed in flame. “Don’t.” Her single word was rimed with frost. The flap dropped behind her and she was gone.


	16. Chapter 16

Bridach carefully folded her dress and placed it on Cian’s bed. She would not take it or any of the other things he had provided for her when she left. The thin green gown the Morrigan had given her would have to do until she decided what she was going to do in response to  her entire life having been directed to serve someone else’s purpose. She checked her satchel to make sure she had all of her belongings, added her dragonfire stone to the small collection of items that summed up her life and slung it over her shoulder. Taking her staff from where it rested against the wall, she pulled back the curtain that separated the little sleeping are from the rest of the cottage. Ruarc was sitting at the table.

“Are you leaving?”

“I have to.”

His shoulders slumped. “Was Da an idiot again?”

Bridach sat next to him on the bench. “No, this isn’t your Da’s fault. There are things I have to do.”

“Are you going to come back?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think so. Your father needs someone else to love him. At least now he knows he can.”

“Why can’t he just love you?”

It was the same question she had asked herself so many times and only today had she started to find her answer. “Has anybody told you what happened at the stone circle last night?”

“Aye. Word’s all over the village. Seems some priestesses think you’re a right special toy, and it seems you don’t take too kindly to being messed about.”

Bridach smiled at the feral grin he gave her. “That’s about the breadth of it. It turns out people have been messing me about since I was younger than you.”

“What did they do to you?”

“They made me love your father.”

His face contorted in confusion. “ _Why_?”

“I don’t know, but did you ever have a fancy for a girl before? When you were little?”

“Aye. Everyone gets a shining after someone every once in a while.”

Bridach wished she had been there to see him with his first crush. She wished she could stay and see him with his next crush. “So did I. I got a fancy for your father but they made mine stick.”

“From when you were a little girl?”

“Yes. Are you still sniffing about after the girl you liked?”

His face contorted again, but this time in disgust. “Ew, no.”

“I haven’t had that choice. Someone decided years ago that I was supposed to be in love with your father, and I have been. I still am. It hurts leaving him. It hurts even more leaving you and your sister though, because you two I chose to love.” She hugged the young man and he held on to her like he was losing his mother all over again. “I’ll be at the howling, so this isn’t a goodbye.” She kissed him on his brow. “Keep your father from being an idiot, please.”

“I’ll try. It’s a tough job.”

“But you’re man enough for it.”

She left before the tears clogging her throat could spill over and headed for the stone circle on the other side of the village. This time as she made her way up the hill she could sense the moment she got close enough that the power started seeping into her. Olcán had taught her how to see the energy that laid over everything like a thin skin of water, flowing into rivulets and streams, joining into rivers and emptying into huge lakes. The stones sat in the middle of one of those lakes, and the tiny filaments of energy wrapped around her feet as she walked, seeping into her skin and flowing upward. She had watched Olcán gather these threads of power and pull them into himself, but every time she reached for them they just slipped through her fingers. So she kept walking, absorbing them as she climbed the hill, feeling the initial trickle of energy turn into a flood.

As the got to the top of the hill, she retrieved her stone from her satchel. It was already glowing and she could see the glint of sparks flying off from her hair. Fire began to drip from her fingertips as she passed between two of the standing stones and came to a halt in the center of the circle. Part of her training at Sí an Bhrú had been to memorize the location of every stone of power on the island, and she closed her eyes, imagining the map that had hung in the necropolis there. Flames wrapped up her arms and her stone glowed brighter than the sun as she found the circle that stood closest to where she wanted to go. She chanted the ritual, her voice sounding odd in its aloneness, her hands holding her staff and stone rather than the hands of her sisters, and reached.

There was the soft rumble of thunder as the air rushed into to fill the spot where she had been.

>< 

Cian had started to go after Bridach but Gráinne had told him to let her calm down, lest he bear the brunt of her firey anger. He paced the camp instead, picking up odd pieces of equipment and studying their design in an attempt to keep his mind occupied. Sometimes it worked, but mostly his thoughts were a whirl of anger and blame. Gráinne for not healing Móirín, the Morrigan for letting her die, Bridach for not being his wife. The more he ruminated, the less anger he felt for Bridach. She had not chosen this life, not really, playing at silly love games as a child. And yet, he didn’t know if he could ever look her in the face and not be reminded of the death of his wife.

Finally, he sought out Olcán and Gráinne. They were with the druids and priestesses that were being held captive for the time being. All of them had been tied to stakes and gagged in an empty meadow that Olcán had described as having the least amount of power for the druids to work with.

As he approached, he saw the two people he had sought with several of the other local druids and priestesses. They had released the gag on several of the prisoners and were questioning them.

“What were you going to do with her?” Grainne asked one of the priestesses, a young looking woman with brown hair. Cian was learning to not trust appearances of age when it came to them anymore.

“Saraid wanted to breed her. She’s the only one that survived the change –,”

“What change?” Olcán interrupted.

“Saraid knew there was no way that we could take back over the other island with the army she could raise to her cause, so she decided to create the army she wanted. She spent decades working out how to make a ritual permanent and connect it to the spirit of a person, so they could use it whenever they wanted.”

“And they did this to Bridach? What ritual did they give her?”

“The ability to summon the  _bean sidhe_. It’s what she tried with all of them.”

“But she’s been able to do that since she was a child,” Cian countered. He didn’t want Saraid taking honors for acts she had not done, however horrible they might be.

“I know. When babes were presented for naming, priestesses would add the spell to them. She wanted an army of summoners she could send out to face the enemy. The fear of the goddess would precede her army and they would be able to take over the old island with a minimal loss of life.”

“How many times did she try this?”

“Thousands,” one of the other priestesses answered, an older man with a short, grey beard. “The children never survived more than a month or so afterward. The darkness was too great for their small lights.”

“But for some reason Bridach did. Maybe because she’s faoladh. It makes her stronger.”

Gráinne shook her head, her hair floating around her like she was in a windstorm. “No. She died the first few times Saraid tried it with her. She has travelled this wheel many times. She had to learn how to hold the darkness and keep it locked away. She would have been a great bard with honor down through the ages to come and she chose to sacrifice her voice to keep the taint from taking over her gift. It is also why the Morrigan bound her so young to Cian. To keep her from giving into the lure of the darkness.”

Cian still struggled to believe that he was somehow important enough to have come to the attention of the goddess. “How have I done that? We haven’t even seen each other in almost four hands of years.”

“She loves you, and longs to become someone you would love, so she honors her faoladh heritage even though those around her taught her to hate it. She refuses to be cruel because you are someone who helps a lost child. She dreamed of the day that you would choose her and she would leave the priestesses behind and be your wife. Her bond to you is what kept her from giving in to the lure of power that surrounds her.”

The image of her wreathed in flame danced in his mind’s eye. “She says the fire calls to her like a lover.”

“Aye. It was the heart’s desire to be your lover instead that has kept her sane for so many years. You have kept her soul upright and growing like one of your trees, rather than crippled and deformed with greed and death.”

Cian scratched at his beard as he rolled the words around in his head. Had he really been that much of an influence on her? Gráinne watched him fall into contemplation and turned her attention back to the priestesses.

“So what have you been doing with her at Sí an Bhrú? She’s been there for years now.”

“You know how she absorbs power from the stones, right?” an older woman asked. At their nod, she continued. “When Saraid finally found her, she brought her back to Sí an Bhrú. She would have been a normal priestess except for her ability to call the dark. But the first time she saw one of the standing stones that surround the necropolis, she ran up to it and started reading the runes. No one should know how to read those markings without extensive training, but she began to read the markings as if it were a game. No one knew how she was doing it but she walked sunrise around the circle and stopped to read each of the stones. I can read them, Saraid could read them, but there was something different to the way she said the words. Some she left out, others she changed slightly, and she spent the day walking the circle, reading each stone, and when she got back to where she had started, she read the stone again and then lifted her hands as if in offering. I’ve seen sisters go into a goddess trance for a few minutes, but she was that way for hours. And then she touched the stone and it was like the sun disappeared from the sky only to reappear in her hands. The light was blinding, and then it was gone. When I could see again, we were all sprawled on the grass, and she claims no memory of this though it took almost an entire day. Since then she’s been able to take power without ritual.”

“Has anyone else tried to repeat what she did?”

“I tried. We all tried. Saraid was convinced Bridach remembered how to do it and beat her senseless multiple times to get her to reveal the secret but she would scream that she didn’t know. When that didn’t work she coddled the girl, gave her special treatment, slept by her side like a true sister. She kept running away though, determined to be faoladh, and we could never find her until she used one of the stones. We had to keep her outside of the temple, you understand, or she would have died, but she would always find the stones wherever she was and be drawn to them. And then we would go bring her back, and Saraid would fall on her in a rage again. That’s when Bridach came up with the idea of giving her power to the others to use. She started going into the main complex and soaking up the power and then giving it to the others to use. We’ve accomplished so much in the last few years with the power she has given us access to.”

“And when you’ve gone to retrieve her before, she’s always gone willingly?” Cian asked, disbelieving that docile account of her nature.

“She has yelled before, but she’s always obeyed Saraid. We thought it would be that way again.”

“And now what will you do?” Gráinne asked.

All the priestess’s heads snapped up in the same instant and they looked back towards where the village was. The druids and Cian did so a moment later. It felt like the earth was shaking under his feet though the grass barely rippled in the breeze. “What was that?” Cian asked.

Olcán gave him an odd look. “Someone used the stones.”

“More intruders?”

Olcán closed his eyes for a moment and then shook his head. “Bridach. She has left.”

>< 

Bridach collapsed and clawed at the grass, trying to get the pain in her head to recede. Voices screamed at her.  _Go back go back goback goback gobackgobackgoback._ The stones standing above her wavered and shook when she looked up at them, as if they were afraid of her or the invisible creatures tearing at her soul.  _Gobackgobackgoback._

She wouldn’t listen this time. The geas that had sent her fleeing from Sí an Bhrú to seek out Cian, the same geas that had kept her from running away from him after he was so horrified at her summoning the  _bean sidhe_ , it choked her with terror of what would happen if she didn’t go back this instant.

Bridach grabbed her stone and forced herself to her feet. She rested her hands on her knees, gasping for each stabbing breath and waited for the sparks to start flying from her hair and the smoke to rise from her footprints. Her stone began to glow warm and then brighter, beams of light emanating from the gaps between her fingers. Another stabbing breath and she closed her eyes, trying to shut out the voices and looked inward. The light of her soul was overlaid with the bonds she had chosen and those that had been forced upon her. It was rubbed raw where the bond that Saraid had laid upon her so many years ago had finally snapped with the woman’s death. Somewhere in this crazy weaving of oaths and choices was the bond causing her pain. She would not be someone else’s ox to be whipped to a destination not of her choosing again. All she needed to do was break the bonds until she found the one that caused her pain.

She sought out the most recent bond that she had made, the one from when she Chose Cian in the forest. With the goddess’s seal over it, it was like an iron chain next to the embroidery thread that composed some of her other promises. Another painful gasp of air, her lungs heaving like abused bellows. That was all very well. Even chains could be broken if hit hard enough. She gathered all the power in her body and slammed it against one of the links. It clanged with painful weight against her heart, driving her back to her knees. She grabbed her stone with both hands so hard that the rough edges caused her palms to bleed and screamed as she threw the force of her being against that link again. She waited between each blow, letting the pain in her hands distract her from the agony of every breath and the voices clawing at her ears while she waited to gather enough power to smoke and flame. And she beat her soul against her heart over and over and over and waited to see which would break first.

She screamed in anguish as the bond broke, snapping back like a broken bowstring and stinging the archer. Her voice echoed against the stones and then there was silence. Blessed silence.

Bridach fumbled her stone back into the satchel and crawled from the circle, smearing blood over the grass as she went, until she could feel the power release her and then she collapsed on the ground and slept.


	17. Chapter 17

Cian stumbled as he walked through the camp and grabbed ahold of one of the eagle standards still posted in front of the tents to keep from falling. Olcán grabbed his arm. “Are you unwell?”

He gasped for breath like the wind had been knocked out of him. “She’s gone.”

“Bridach? Yes, she is.”

“You don’t understand,” he rubbed a hand against his chest, the blow still aching inside, his lungs still too shocked to fully function. “Something’s happened. I can’t feel her.” Instead, he felt like a hole had been ripped in his heart. It didn’t hurt as much as when Móirín had died, but the gaping emptiness was the same.

Olcán gripped Cian’s shoulder to hold him steady. “You could feel her?”

“I didn’t realize I could until she’s not there anymore.”

Olcán stared at Cian with unfocused eyes for a few moments. “Her bond is gone.”

Cian’s head snapped up. “What do you mean?”

“When she Chose you, it created a bond. Even though you never Chose her, your soul was still connected to hers. I don’t see that bond anymore.”

Cian’s fingers went white on the eagle standard as he fought to stay upright. “But how? Who? Saraid said she wasn’t strong enough to break it.”

Olcán shrugged. “The goddess?”

“The Morrigan broke our bond?”

“I don’t know Cian. The bond is gone. I have never seen a bond of the strength she had with you and other than death, I’m not sure what could have severed it.”

His stomach sank and so did his heart. “She’s dead?” The gold eagle bent in his grasp.

“I don’t know.”

“Well who would?” he snarled.

Olcán stepped back. “The goddess, though I don’t think you two are on particularly good speaking terms right now.”

“How am I supposed to find out what happened to her then?”

“Why do you care? This solves all your problems. She is gone. You bare no more responsibility towards her, nor her to you. You will be troubled by a strange fire creature no more.”

“I don’t want her dead, Olcán.”

“But you didn’t want her living. You have treated her with disrespect from the moment you refused to Choose her.”

“I love my wife.”

“Your wife is dead! Móirín is dead. And it’s not Bridach’s fault, and it’s not mine and it’s not Gráinne’s either. Móirín was a warrior and she died because she got wounded. Do you think she didn’t know what the risks were every time she picked up that axe? She’s dead, and you’ve let the pack disintegrate into shambles while you grieved her, and Bridach comes along with the promise of a new start for you and this whole pack and you threw her away. She’s not yours anymore. She’s not your mate and she’s not your pack, and if she isn’t dead and she comes round again, I’ll be signaling my interest.”

Cian took all the anger and pain and confusion he was feeling them and channeled them into an easier emotion to cope with: contempt. “I hope you’re prepared to leave then. This is my village.”

“Not anymore, Cian. You can’t rule the pack without a mate. There needs to be new blood being brought in to the pack and you’re unwilling to do that.”

“Bridach carries my child in her belly.”

“Who also may be dead! Your commitment to the dead has driven away the only thing that could save your place as pack leader. I’ll give you until the end of the howling. If you don’t have a new mate by then, I’m challenging you for leadership.”

Cian advanced on Olcán, his fangs slowly descending in a wicked smile. “You think you can kill me?”

Olcán didn’t shrink away from his pack leader like he should. He bared his fangs rather than his throat. “If you make me.”

“And orphan my children?”

“You had a chance to give them two parents. It will be your choice if they end up with none.”

>< 

Gráinne sought out Cian and found him in the forest, resting against one of his trees, his head slumped over in his hands. She sat next to him and waited calmly. This was not the first time she had sat with someone in mourning. It was unique in her experience though, in that she wasn’t exactly sure who he was mourning, or what.

He didn’t speak for a while, and when he did, it was just a whisper. “Do you think she’s dead?”

“No.”

“I don’t either.”

They watched the spots of sunlight shift across the forest floor to the accompaniment of the rustling of leaves and the calls of distant birds. The waves of anger and grief cascading off of him showed no sign of relenting as they battered against her. She patted his knee a few times. “Olcán said you felt the bond snap.”

 “You talked about how I’d been keeping her safe all those years and didn’t know it, and I didn’t believe you. And then…” He rubbed at his chest, the gnawing emptiness still achingly new. “I’m worried about what will happen to her without me. There has been so much pain and death in her life, and that was with me there. What will she do alone?”

“Hopefully your child with be a good influence. She knows that to call the darkness will taint the babe. With the anger at what happened to her foremost in her mind, hopefully it will keep her from repeating that evil with her own child.”

The thought that he had lost not only Bridach but the baby made the ache worse. He and Móirín had lost babies, both before and after birth, and building a tiny funeral pyre was one of the most painful things he had ever done. He had buried Móirín’s ashes next to her children’s. “Did you mean what you said, that you intervened with the Goddess to give me and Móirín time together?”

“Aye.”

He had been fighting to understand this new knowledge since that morning. The last several days had been a whirlwind that had torn apart his understanding of both his past and his present, and he was sorting through the detritus to make sense of it. Not only of his and Móirín’s life together, but the feelings he had been developing for Bridach and his growing need to protect her from the machinations surrounding her before their bond had broken. “Why? If Bridach and I being together is so important to the goddess, why would you let me have Móirín?”

“Because you loved her, and I may serve the goddess, and Bridach may be my sister in her service, but you are my blood.” Her laughter pealed out at the stunned look on Cian’s face, sending birds into squawking flight in protest. “With more generations between us than I want to admit, for it appears I have grown vain in my old age, but you are my family. And you loved her, and you were happy, and I wanted that happiness for you.”

“And the goddess went along with that?”

“She is the Mother. She understood my heart.”

Each moment with his wife now looked like a special gift, rather than a normal life that had ended too soon. “And so Bridach suffered so I could be happy.”

“Yes, and it isn’t fair, but she isn’t my family and I cared more for your happiness than for hers. Just because I gave up my ability to shift doesn’t make me less of a  _faoladh._  I am still loyal to my pack.”

His little pack. Just him and his children now, and Olcán who was on the verge of calling a challenge. Gráinne couldn’t make up for losing Bridach and the babe though. She had killed for the pack twice now, and he hadn’t considered that enough. Now, as he sat with an empty heart, he could smell her scent on his tunic from where she had held him as they kissed the night before, and a strand of her hair clung to his trousers from where she had slumbered with her head on his thigh this morning. He had been the one to protect her, and then the one who wounded her the worst. “Our bond is gone. She’s not my pack anymore, Gráinne, and I think I’ve been a fool. The goddess brought her to me and I didn’t see her for who she is in time and now she’s gone.”

“Vision gained is never too late. Let it direct your feet on the path you still have in front of you.”

>< 

Bridach sat on the last vestiges of grass before the meadow gave way to the rock and sand of the shoreline. The waves swept against the shore with a relentless patience. After three days of walking, she had finally found the stretch of forest and beach that matched her vision. The river emerged from the forest, winding its way across the wide beach and providing fresh water and navigation inland that the enemies would take advantage of. A guard tower would be erected to her left. This meadow would be a battlefield, and the bodies of the dead would litter the sand, and the river would run red to the sea.

She rested on the spot where Cian would die. Her hand sought out the image of his fingers limp around a shattered ax handle. Breaking the bond between them had helped somewhat. It gave her time to think and plan, but she had found to her dismay that it didn’t stop her from loving him. Whether from habit or from having actually fallen in love with him as she had shared his table and bed, she didn’t know. He had seemed to be actually falling in love with her. He had protected her the best way he knew how and had held her while she burned to keep her safe. His hand had rested over their babe in her belly. Finding out that Móirín had died so that she could be his had shattered their fragile young relationship. There was no hope for them now, so she had freed him as much as she had freed herself.

She wiped her hand across her mouth and walked over to the river to rinse the taste of her vomit from her mouth. It was always worst first thing in the morning. Now that she had found the battle site, she needed to go back. Tadgh and Olcán would need to know where it was to plan with the other villages, and she would take the news to the howling so that the packs would know. And after three days of thinking, she had some other things she needed to take care of as well. She headed inland, up the sloping hills to the stone circle that stood on the top. It was a small circle, but old, and it would take her back to where she needed to go. She would have to face Cian, but he would never know her heart.

>< 

Cian looked up from his work as Olcán quickly approached. The two men hadn’t talked since their argument. Cian had left to go back to the village and to his work and children, leaving Olcán and Gráinne to deal with the rebellious priestesses and druids. He had spent the last three days carving a druid’s staff for Bridach out of the heartwood of the yew. A pack of wolves howled fire up and down its length, their tails knotting together in elaborate patterns. He put down his chisel and walked out of his workshop, meeting Olcán on open ground.

The druid stopped a few feet away. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Where else would I be?”

“You didn’t feel the stones?”

“No.” He ducked his head. “I haven’t been able to since Bridach left.”

“Well, she’s back.”

Cian’s head snapped up. “Bridach is back?”

“Aye. Gráinne’s already…” He stopped talking and hurried after Cian as he ran towards the stones.

Bridach had walked far enough down the hill from the stones where she was barely within reach of their influence. Power slowly seeped into her, refilling the reservoir she had emptied bringing herself back here. Gráinne faced her, and three of the local druids stood behind her.

Cian stopped a few feet back from the gathering. Her green dress was dirty several handspans up from the hem, and there were rusty stains on it, from clay or from blood he could not tell. The soft curves of her face had gone hard as rock, and her eyes held none of the warmth he was used to seeing in them. “You’re alive.”

“Of course I’m alive. I can protect myself.”

“The bond. Our bond. It’s gone. Olcán said you might be dead.”

“I broke it. I’m not going to be bound by other people’s choices anymore.”

“But you’re alive. You and our child. You’re both alright,” he reassured himself.

Her head tilted to the side as she looked at him, her brows drawn together in confusion. She blinked a few times and then closed the small distance between them and gently touched his cheek. “We’re both fine, Cian.”

Cian’s cheeks flushed as he gently touched her face and then her belly. “I’m glad.”

“What are you going to do now?” Gráinne asked her. She looked young again. The wrinkles that had appeared with Saraid’s death had disappeared in the days of Bridach’s absence.

“I’m going to talk to the Morrigan. I have some questions that are going to get answered and some wrongs that are going to be righted. And then I’m going to fight this war against the foreign invaders, and then I’m going to Sí an Bhrú and I’m going to find the name of every priestess who embedded darkness in the soul of an infant, and I’m going to kill every single one of them.”

Gráinne looked at Olcán who had caught up to them and took his hand in a painfully tight grip. “Bridach…,” her voice faded away.

“What?” The softness that had momentarily made an appearance as she had looked at Cian was gone.

“There could be hundreds of them.”

Her mouth tightened into a firm line. “Then we better finish things as quickly as possible here since it looks like I’m going to be very busy in the future.”

The druids and Gráinne exchanged worried looks. “You will break the worship of the Goddess in this isle if you do this. What will the people think if they know this happened?”

“Perhaps the Morrigan should have thought of that herself and not let her priestesses stray so far from the circle.” She cocked her head to the side as she looked at Gráinne like a wolf deciding whether or not to attack newly spotted prey. “Tell me, Gráinne; did you ever taint the soul of a baby you were naming?”

“You forget your place, sister.” Bridach could see the ghost of a  _faoladh_  in her as she snarled. “You are a half-trained child and know nothing of the ways of the Goddess. Don’t presume to set yourself up to judge others who have spent lifetimes following her way.”

“Then pray the Morrigan sees likewise, because if she doesn’t and refuses to go along with my plan, you are next on my list, sister.” The last word hissed out on a snarl. She turned and headed for the stone circle. “Come with me, Cian. I’m going to get your wife back.”

Cian didn’t move. “You’re going to do what?”

She couldn’t look at him and sought out the comforting touch of her dragonfire stone in her satchel. “It’s my fault she died. I’ve been thinking these last few days about how many people suffered because of me, not through my choices, but because of what someone else chose me to do. Well, the Morrigan needs me to be her Chooser of the Dead and protect her warriors. I will do as she asks, but I’m going to do it my way.”

“You think you can make the goddess bring Móirín back to life?” Olcán said, his voice caught somewhere between shock and laughter.

“Yes.”

Gráinne took Bridach’s hand. “You’re talking about defying the goddess. You can’t do that.”

Cian saw a spark fly into the air from her hair. “Why not?”

“Because she is the goddess. She will destroy you.”

“She  _needs_  me.”

“She will swat you down and raise another in your stead,” Gráinne warned, the air suddenly calamitously calm, like the still before the storm. A few more sparks drifted upward.

Bridach crossed her arms over her chest. Her chin lifted, not to expose her throat but to make it easier to bare her fangs. “Not in time to fight the battle that is coming.”

“Then you will have more deaths on your hands then you already do. And she will wait through more cycles for another to answer her call.” The wind was picking up now, the distant trees bending to its force and Gráinne and Bridach’s hair both whipping around. The druids all planted their feet and took on the solidity of stone. Their long braids and coils barely moved in the wind, except for the feathers woven into the female’s hair.

“I can make her do it. I’m strong enough.”

Gráinne grabbed her by both arms. “You broke a bond you made that she blessed. You’re obviously very powerful, but you touched a raindrop and she is an ocean, Bridach.”

Her hands curled into fists at her side and her chin quivered for a moment before her jaw went rigid again. Cian watched as the sparks turned into small flames licking along the waves of her hair and then blew out in the wind, sending up thin coils of smoke to waft away. “Then how do I fix it?” she wailed.

“You can’t. All you can do is take responsibility for what you do in the future.”

“I have ruined so many lives. My family is dead because of what Saraid did to me, and I have settled my vengeance on her. I wish I could bring her back and kill her once for each member of my pack, but I can’t. I would even kill her for the travelers who attacked me for the few goods I carried, though they were not blameless in their deaths. There are people dead because of my fires, but even worse, there are people in pain every day from the scars and the disfigurement. So many dead, Gráinne. So many dead and so many lives ruined. Móirín dead and Cian’s life ruined, because of me.”

“You didn’t ruin my life, Bridach” Cian said, overlapping Gráinne correcting her.

“Because of the goddess, Bridach.”

Her eyes were pools of sorrow and pain as she looked at him. “You don’t have to lie to me, Cian. I’m not your responsibility anymore.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I broke our bond.”

“I know. I felt it go away. But I hold a responsibility to you still, even if it’s for no other reason than you carry my child in your belly.”

Of course he would want to make sure that his child was safe. He wouldn’t trust another of his children to the strange creature of fire. “I can take care of her. You need not worry yourself on my account.”

He took her hand and pulled her further down the hillside. The other five didn’t follow but began to talk in hushed tones with each other. “I think you need people to worry about you, lass, if you think that going up on that hillside and screaming at the goddess and demanding your way like Laoise throwing a fit over having to go to bed is going to work.”

“You, of all people, should want to scream at her as well. She took your wife.”

“Aye, she did. But as much as I miss Móirín, I would not call her back from Tír na nÓg for all the gold in the world. She died in battle, like she would have wanted, and I will not dishonor her by being so weak as to make her come back, even if that were possible.”

The plan she had spent the last three days constructing was falling to pieces around her feet. “What’s changed your mind, Cian? You wanted me to conjure her for you before.”

“One last look. One more chance to see her face. But not to make her come back to toil and labor. Grief is for the living, girl, not for the dead.”

“You were so mad,” she said in confusion.

“I was mad. Mad at the idea that Móirín died so you could take her place. But that’s not what happened. The goddess gave me years with Móirín that I never would have had if her priestess hadn’t been keeping a close eye on me because I was bound to you. The grief at losing her is worth paying for the memory of the years and children we had together.”

He saw a flash of her fangs again and was glad he would never have to face both Móirín and Bridach in a temper at the same time. He could barely handle one of them. Bridach’s fiery temper was more literal, but Móirín had left scorch marks on your hide in her own way. “So you got Móirín and Ruarc and Laoise, and I was forced to love a man and watch him live and love another. It seems like I got the short end of the stick.”

“Maybe, if you stop being so angry about everything, you could think of it as having already paid your pain upfront. I will still welcome you into my home and my bed. We could have the life you want.” He paused as the possibility he had tried to ignore pushed its way to the fore of his mind again. “Or at least the life you wanted.”

“Into your home and your bed, but not your heart.” Her lip curled in a sneer.

Cian growled and grabbed her face in both hands. “I learned something when I felt our bond break. I had been holding you in my heart all unknowing since before I chose Móirín. You have been part of me for almost four hands of cycles, but I didn’t know it until you were gone. I do not love you yet, Bridach, but I will Choose you this instant if you want that sure in the knowledge that I will love you in the days to come. You don’t have to fight this battle alone.”

He held her face immobile but with the lightest possible touch. It was all she could do to not roll over and show her belly and throat to him. Instead she dropped her eyes. “I do not love you, Cian. Not truly. I love you out of memory and habit.”

“And I do not love you either. But the goddess bound us for a reason, and maybe rather than going up that hill yelling with your hair all ablaze, you use the priestesses who are her trained and devoted servants to ask her why she needs us bound. Perhaps she no longer does, now that you are here. But I will Choose you if that is what she needs, and I will come to love you in time.”

Olcán had drawn closer as they talked and interrupted their reconciliation. “Tell her the real reason you’re so willing to Choose her now, Cian, when you weren’t before.”

She could scent the aggression on both of them. “The real reason?”

“He thinks that I have had a sudden change of heart because he has threatened to challenge me for leadership if I do not acquire a new mate quickly.”

She pulled her face free from his hands. “And is that why?”

“No.”

“Like you would admit that it was?” Olcán asked.

Cian whirled on the man. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end. “And you’re not using Bridach as a tool to gain leadership? You have no mate either, and you know as well as I do that there has to be a breedable female available for a pack challenge to happen.”

Bridach moved so she was between the two men. “So, there is battle coming that will be hundreds or thousands of foes and you two are squabbling over me?” She had forgotten the turmoil that went along with a leadership challenge. The two she had witnessed had both left corpses behind.

“I’m not squabbling. I’m telling you the truth, Bridach. You’re part of my heart and I want to help you fight your battles. I didn’t realize what I had until too late. I suppose Ruarc is right and I am an idiot.”

She turned to face the druid who looked like half a wolf already with his fur-lined cloak. “And Olcán? You would throw the pack into disarray right as we are going to war?”

“The pack is  _in_ disarray. We have no leadership, we have no new young, and we have no way to gain new young.”

Bridach nodded in understanding. She really was at the center of the fight between these two men. “Except for me.”

“No. There is a howling coming hence,” Olcán said. “There will be females of proper age.”

A growl rumbled in her throat. “So,  _I_  will go plan a war with the chiefs and the elders while you two follow your cocks looking for mates.”

“The pack must survive, Bridach,” Olcán said.

“I will not look for a mate,” Cian responded. Bridach turned to him in surprise and Olcán looked at him in confusion. “It is only Bridach for me. If she will take me then I will be her mate. If she does not, and Olcán finds a woman that will Choose him, I will let him rule the pack, as long as he promises not to hurt my children.”

Bridach took an involuntary step towards him. “Cian, that’s a big risk.”

He brushed his hand against her cheek. “I loved Móirín, and you have another piece of my heart. Ruarc and Laoise and the child you carry reside in the rest. I have no more room to fall in love with anyone else, lass. So, I will go play my part for the Goddess in thanks for the years she gave me with Móirín, and in hope of more years with you. And if that hope comes to naught, then it is time for new blood and Olcán will be the right one to lead the pack.”

“Are you certain?”

He tucked her hair back behind her ear and smiled. He would have to bring her the comb she had left behind so she could braid her hair again. “Yes. I have made my choice.”


	18. Chapter 18

Cian and Bridach stood facing each other on the hillside. Everyone else had left after agreeing that Gráinne would assemble a full circle to find the will of the goddess that night. They weren’t touching, but both leaned slightly in towards the other. “Have you eaten today?”

She shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Come with me. There should still be some porridge left.”

She looked down the slope at the circular village laid out below them. “Is it wise for me to go to your home?” Things were still complicated, not just between the two of them, but Laoise as well and her own stubborn desire to be completely indifferent to all those that had been part of her previous life. “Where else were you thinking of staying while we get this all sorted out?”

“I have spent the last three nights by myself. I can make do with a cave, or one of those tents from the camp.”

He chuckled and grabbed her hand and tugged her down the hill. “You’re just scared of having to face Laoise’s anger.”

She smiled as his fingers linked through hers, feeling familiar. “Terrified.”

“Well, don’t you worry your head about her. The girl is learning manners.” He looked over at her and saw the dark circles under her eyes. “If I remember correctly, you’re probably ill every morning and exhausted the rest of the day.”

“Aye.”

“Then come eat.”

She shot a glance at him from the corner of her eyes and dared to tease him. “What if it’s your cooking I’m scared of?”

He bit off a sharp bark of laughter. “Oh, so all the sparks aren’t just from your hair?”

“No, a few come from my tongue.”

He chuckled again. “Well if it’s my cooking that has you scared, you’re in luck. Ruarc’s been cooking.”

Her nose wrinkled in dismay. “Oh, that might be even worse.”

“He’s pretty good. At least with porridge.”

>< 

Cian scraped the last of the porridge out of the pot into a bowl for Bridach. “You know where the honey is. I’m going to go wash this.”

He left with the cauldron, and Bridach giggled as he hurried out the door. She had been shocked to see how worried he had been about her on the hillside, and then his confession that he would have her or no one had been an additional surprise. He had made himself vulnerable, not only in front of her but in front of Olcán as well. He was skittish now, even in his own house, waiting for her to decide his fate. It was obviously an unfamiliar position for him.

Bridach had just finished eating when he came back, lugging the cauldron like it was full. “What do you have there?”

“Water to heat so you can wash.” He hung the pot back over the fire.

She looked down at her dirty dress. The pale green showed every stain of her journey. “Do I smell that bad?”

“No, but I know how much you like being clean. I still have the dress you left and I thought you might like to wash before changing into it.”

“I like being clean so much that I got myself stabbed over it. Do you think I’ll have better luck at being undisturbed this time?”

“Well, Ruarc took Laoise out hunting so you should have plenty of privacy.”

She smoothed her hand over the surface of the table and its collection of stains that spoke of long use. She was going to have to coax him back to his comfortable position as pack leader when it came to her. “And you?”

There was a long pause before he answered. “I have work to attend to.”

Bridach thought his voice sounded deeper than normal. “You could stay.” She untied her sandals and slipped them from her feet.

“Why would I do that?”

She unknotted the cords around her waist holding her dress against her body and placed them on the table. “Help me wash my hair?”

He choked and then pounded on his chest. “Of course.”

He went to fetch her comb and came back into the main room to find her naked, squatting next to the cauldron with glowing hands. She plunged them into the water and it hissed and steamed.

“Have you ever thought about doing that to one of the ponds in the forest?”

“I wouldn’t want to cook the fishes and frogs. I just need a cauldron big enough for me crawl inside.” She took one of the cloths from his hand and dipped it into the hot water and then pressed it against her face. The sound of delight she made reminded Cian of the noises she would make against his throat as they made love, and his body stirred to life. Bridach finished wiping the cloth against her cheeks and then bit her lip for a moment before she refolded the cloth and used a new portion of it to cleanse his forehead. She dragged the warm cloth down the bridge of his nose and let it rest against his lips for a moment before she replaced it with the touch of her lips.

Bridach moved away before he had a chance to respond and dipped the cloth back into the water. She ran it down the side of her throat but as she moved onto her shoulder, his hand closed over hers. “Let me.”

He was standing behind her and she couldn’t see the look on his face, but his voice was low and rough. Her fingers trembled for a second before she dropped her hand. He slowly rubbed the warm cloth against her neck and across her shoulder, dipping into the hollows of her collarbone. “We should probably wash your hair before we go much further.”

She nodded. He poured some of the hot water into a jug for later and then got a large mug. He dipped it into the cauldron. “Bend over?”

Bridach leaned over so her hair was hanging over the cauldron. He ran his hand up her back, gathering all her hair and brushing it up over her head. She arched under his hand and the delightfully tingly sensation his fingers left behind. He poured the warm water over her head and worked it through her hair. Again he dipped up a mug full of water and poured it over her hair. His hand stroked up her neck and into her hair again. Once more he poured water over her. She was about to stand up when the scent of soap and herbs tickled her nose. Both of his hands closed over her hair and he worked the soap into her long wet waves.

He drew forth a moan from her as his nails scraped over her scalp. Carefully he washed her hair, his keen hearing picking up the sub-vocalizations she was making. Each soft whimper made him harder and he eventually gave up on the pretense that he was washing her hair and not simply availing himself of the opportunity to touch her again. He dipped the mug in and rinsed the soap out of her hair, running his fingers up her neck with each pour, helping the water get all the way to the roots of her hair as his fingers formed trails for the water to follow.

When the water dripping from her hair ran clear, Bridach finally stood up. Her back ached from being stooped over for so long, but she wouldn’t have ended it a moment sooner. She was calmer than she’d been in days. Cian reached around her to wet the cloth again and he was silent as he washed her other shoulder and then down her back. Every drop of water trailing down her skin reassured him that she was alive.

Bridach turned around and reached for the hem of his shirt. She pulled it up and he helped her get it off over his head. She took another cloth from the table and dipped it in the water, taking a moment to reheat it, before she ran it over his chest. Her lips followed the droplets of water left behind and she nuzzled his underarm, taking a deep breath of his scent. It filled her lungs and soothed the raw places on her soul.  She looked up at him and his eyes reflected the firelight. He was watching her and waiting. Waiting for some signal that he needed.

Bridach stood up on tip toe, softly kissed him, and then tilted her head back, completely baring her throat.

There was no response for a second and her heart hammered at her rib cage. Then she heard his soft growl and the imprint of his teeth against her neck. He bit hard enough to sting and the sweetness of his acceptance brought tears to her eyes. Whatever else happened, they would have this between them. They were pack once more.

There were no words spoken. They went back to washing each other, hands and cloths gliding over skin and washing away all the accumulated dust of the past. She sat on his lap and washed his hair and beard until his chest rumbled with pleasure. He combed her hair until it hung straight down her back. By unspoken agreement they didn’t kiss or seek out the sexual places on each other’s bodies. She sat in front of him and washed his feet, massaging out the knots she could feel under her thumbs. He did the same thing for her and she dug her nails into his shoulder to keep from howling in pain as he worked out the knots and soreness of three days of non-stop walking in flimsy sandals. He got out a pot of oil and warmed some of it between his hands and worked it into the callouses, rubbing slowly until his touches no longer hurt but brought relief instead.

Finally, he brought over the reserved jug of water and held it out to her. She clasped the clay and heated it. He poured some of the contents over her, rinsing off the suds that had been left behind, and she did the same to him, admiring where the water ran along the curves of his muscles and dripped from his fingers and the curve of his arse. With a fresh wet cloth he began to wash her breasts with a touch that was both tender and thorough. When he added his mouth to his ministrations, she wrapped one hand around the back of his head and with a clean cloth began to wash him as well. He’d been hard this whole time and she had been careful not to touch, or when sitting on his lap, not to rub against him, but now she lavished attention on it. He hissed out a breath when she first touched his shaft and nipped at her breast but he didn’t pull away. Slowly, he began to pump into her hand and when he placed a freshly wetted cloth between her thighs and tenderly began to rub, her knees buckled and she grabbed him for support.

The cloths were dropped to the floor as Cian picked her up and carried her to his bed. Her legs barely had time to lock in place around his waist before they tumbled into the bed together. She could feel him hard between her legs, nudging against her as his cock sought its home.

“Bridach?” He was braced on one hand over her.

She slid her fingers into his still wet hair and pulled him down so their faces were separated by only a breath. She kissed him one more time and whispered, “Cian.”

Her hips shifted along with his and he pressed deeply into her. She threw her head back on a groan and he kissed her throat, his lips warm and soft as they moved together. This was what it felt like to make love to him out of her own desire, not compelled by a bond she had not really chosen or driven by heat. This was her choosing her own future, and as his hand moved between her thighs and conjured his own special type of fire, she knew that she would Choose him again.

The scent of her back in his bed only underscored how much he had missed her. He had been surprised at how quickly his home had seemed empty without her when she had fled after rescuing Laoise, and his inability to sleep without her tucked against his side after two hands of days had left him flummoxed and exhausted. Now he knew it was because his house had understood faster than he had that she was where she belonged. The hole that had gaped empty since their bond had shattered was filling again now that she here again, and her teasing him about his cooking did as much to fill in the cavernous wound as the feel of her wrapped around his body and calling his name. He could say he didn’t love her, but the only thing love lacked was him actually saying the words to call it into existence.

His hips sped their motion as her fingers gripped his back tighter. She could do nothing but hold him and whimper his name as her pleasure built to a climax, pulling all of her body taut and needy.

“Bridach, look at me.”

She forced her eyes open and struggled to focus. He slowed his touches so he could be sure she was listening to him.

“Bridach.”

“Cian,” she panted as her fingers tugged at his hips, trying to get him to move again.

“Bridach, I love you.”

She fell still. “You do?”

He kissed her, over and over, whispering the words “I love you,” between each kiss.

“I love you, too. Cian. Me. Right now. Just me.”

“Will you Choose me?”

“I Choose,” she started to say, but he stopped her lips with his fingers.

“Just nod.”

She did, and flicked her tongue against his rough fingertips.

“I wanted to ask you before the priestesses ask the Goddess tonight. This is me Choosing you because I love you. But let us save the words for the howling, so that we can celebrate with our own kind.”

She nodded again and her tongue swirled around his fingertip and she sucked it into her mouth. He groaned and began pumping into her furiously as his fingers resumed their motion between her legs.

Bridach quickly regained the heat she had lost and within a few minutes her nails left fresh marks down his back as she buried her face against his throat and howled his name. Cian didn’t care who knew as he found his own release and cried her name to the skies.

He combed his fingers through her damp hair as she rested, curled against his side. Her hair was going to be a mess when she woke up but he couldn’t convince himself to move from where he was to fetch a comb and fix it. He closed his eyes and for the first time since their bond had shattered, found restful sleep.

Her eyes closed and her sight turned inward as had become her habit, to gaze at the small and growing light of her child. It shone with all its usual intensity, and right before she fell asleep, she noticed a thin new bond laid against the light of her soul where her old bond with Cian had been. It looked like a piece of rope, strands of green and red and brown woven together to make something that was stronger together than the pieces would have been separately. A smile crossed her face and she rested her hand on her stomach before she fell sound asleep.


	19. Chapter 19

Ruarc smiled as he walked into his house. Bridach was back, and based on the scent hanging in the air, had reconciled with his father. A moment’s listen and he could hear two different people breathing, steady enough that they had to be sleeping. His father had kept him up the last three nights with his tossing and turning. Apparently all he had needed was Bridach back. Ruarc took the rabbits he and Laoise had caught back outside. He would skin them there, and keep Laoise from going inside.

>< 

Cian woke to the noise of Bridach whimpering and the sting of her nails raking down his side as she struggled in his arms. He clamped her mouth shut, his thumb against the soft skin under her jaw and his index finger hooked over her nose, and she stilled. A few seconds later her eyes opened. He watched consciousness return to her gaze and dropped his hand from her mouth. “Bad dream?”

“A vision.”

“Of the war?”

“No. Of what I must do tonight.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “I must go tell Gráinne.”

He reached for her and let his fingers slide down the gentle bumps of her spine. “Do you want me to come with you?”

“No.” She gripped the frame of the bed with both hands and looked back at him over her shoulder. “Will you come with me tonight, though? I don’t want to face this alone.”

“Of course. You never need be alone, Bridach. Not anymore.”

She nodded and gave him a halfhearted smile. “Thank you.”

“What do you have to do?”

“I have to judge the rest of Saraid’s circle. I know I said I wanted to kill them, but the reality of it is much less enjoyable than the imagining.”

>< 

Bridach knocked on Gráinne’s door. She knew the woman was inside. Her skill at seeing the energy flows was still rudimentary, but since Olcán’s first lessons she had improved enough to be able to see particularly strong holders of power. Gráinne opened the door and invited her in with an impersonal nod. They sat across the fire from each other. “Come to threaten me again?”

Bridach folded her hands in her lap. Now was not the time to fight with the older woman. “No, sister. I have come to ask that we do not meet at the circle tonight.”

“Have you changed your mind about finding out if you and Cian should be bound?”

“No. We have decided that we will have a formal Choosing at the howling.”

Gráinne’s eyes unfocused as she peered through Bridach. The faintest hint of frown lines appeared at the edges of her mouth. “Olcán won’t be happy about that.”

“Olcán’s happiness isn’t my concern.”

“Then we will not gather tonight.” She made to stand but Bridach stopped her.

“No. I come to ask that we meet, just not at the circle.”

Gráinne settled back down. “Why do you want to meet?”

“I have had a dreamvision. The Morrigan has called on me to judge her servants. We will meet at the camp where you are holding them, and I will judge.” It was eerie to see such old eyes peering at her out of such a young face but Bridach held herself still, submitting to the scrutiny.

“I have received no such vision,” Gráinne finally said.

“Have you asked for one?”

Her teeth ground against each other before she answered. “No.”

“Then I suggest that you do. We will meet tonight far away from the stones so that all know I do this not of my own power, but am a tool in the hand of the Morrigan.” Bridach stood to leave but turned back when Gráinne spoke.

If Gráinne could have still shifted into a wolf, her hackles would have been on end. “You do not outrank me, Bridach. You do not give me orders.” There was a hint of fang in the words.

Bridach looked at the priestess with no more regard than she would have given a misbehaving pup. “You have spent hundreds of years waiting for me, Gráinne. I may not have your years or your training, but now that I am here, I will do what the goddess wills me. You are her servant. I am her hand.” She turned her back on the woman and left.

>< 

Bridach woke from her nap and panicked as her stone was no longer tucked into the curve of her body. She tore through the blankets looking for it and then leapt out of the bed. “Cian!” She yanked the furs off the bed, shaking them frantically. She called for her mate again.

Cian threw the door open. “What?” He looked around for the intruders who obviously had to be attacking her for her to be carrying on like this.

“My stone! It’s gone.”

“I have it.”

She stopped searching under the bed and looked up at him. “You have it?”

“I’m setting it into your staff. I have to get the fitting perfect so it won’t ever loosen.”

“Can I see it?”

“Of course.”

She followed him out to his workshop and darted towards the staff the instant she saw it. Her fingers ran over the stone and it glowed for a moment under her touch. Satisfied that it was unharmed she turned her attention to the staff. “Cian, this is beautiful.”

“Every druid needs a staff.”

She ran worshipful hands over the carvings, caressing the wolves that ran up and down the wood. It was a thing of art, completely out of place against the shields and weapons that filled much of his shop. “You must not have slept for the last three days to have the time to make something so complicated.”

He ran his hand over his hair a few times as he stared at the ground. “I couldn’t admit to myself that you might be dead. The staff was my way of asking the goddess to send you back to me.”

She touched the stone again and it glowed. “Fire and tree together.” She hugged him and he wrapped his arms around her, holding her securely to him.

>< 

Cian worked his way around the circle of wooden stakes, making sure each one was secure and immovable. He had helped erect them, cannibalizing the tents for the poles, and seated each one in a hole filled with rocks and clay. Finally, he lashed each one to the two opposite, letting the pull of the ropes keep each firm. While he had worked to secure them, knowing what they would be used for and how tightly they needed to stand, he had watched Bridach. She sat on a low rise nearby. Her hands were in her lap, slowly stroking up and down her new staff which laid across her thighs. A breeze was playing with her hair as she sat, the staff barely visible above the waving grasses that enveloped her up to the waist. The sunlight warmed her bowed head. He wasn’t exactly sure what she was doing. She couldn’t absorb any power. Her eyes were closed so she wasn’t even planning where things would happen.

Bridach soaked up the spring sunshine, wrapping the warmth around her like a shield against the darkness of the night’s coming task. She still didn’t know exactly what would happen. The flashes of vision she had seen matched the scene that was taking shape beneath her. As she pieced the glimpses together, her task took on more clarity in her mind. As it did, she set up a constant prayer to the goddess for the strength to actually be able to fulfill her task. For a moment she glowed bright enough that it went white behind her closed eyes and she heard the voice of the yew tree again, calling her name. The staff thrummed in her hands and took on a heavy comforting weight across her thighs like a familiar blanket.

The sun was beginning to set as Cian brought her a bowl of stew from the large pot in the camp. She didn’t talk as she ate. He sat next to her as he ate his own dinner and when she was done, he took the half-empty bowl from her hands.

“Not hungry?”

“My stomach is in knots.”

“It’s never easy to kill someone. If it was easy for you, I would be worried.”

She leaned against him for a moment. The goddess had given him to her; it didn’t interfere with her preparations to rely on him for strength in this task. “I won’t cede any more of my soul to the darkness. If I could burn out the darkness that’s already there, I would. Those days I was gone and searching for the site of the battle, I was so angry. That was all I could feel, anger about everything. But now that I’m back, the anger seems to have been replaced with sadness. I know all the people I will judge tonight. They were my sisters, and now I will have to kill some of them.”

Cian held her against his side. The end of her staff rested on his leg and he placed his hand on it, tracing the interweaving of two tails. Bridach slid her hand towards his; he linked his fingers with hers. They held onto the staff together.

As the moon began to rise, the accused were brought out from the camp one at a time. The first one went calmly, only beginning to struggle when the druids accompanying her began to bind her to the stake. The others came, some with calm resignation, others kicking and clawing, but eventually all twelve were bound. There were more priestesses and druids congregating around the circle than Bridach had seen before except for one of the high days of the calendar at Sí an Bhrú. She recognized some faces from the village as well. Everyone wanted to see what would happen.

She handed her staff to Cian and then stripped herself of her clothes. Naked she walked towards the waiting circle and took the place of the thirteenth. “Know this now.” A wind picked up and carried her words to all assembled. “I do this not of myself. I bring no weapon or tool. You bound before me here know how little power I have away from the stones. It is the goddess who acts here tonight in the light of her sacred moon. I am merely a tool in her hand.”

Cian wasn’t the only one to catch their breath as the moonlight solidified around her, clothing her in a priestess robe with the luster of pearl.  Her eyes began to glow from within, but looked like the clouded eyes of a blind woman rather than the fire he was used to seeing lighting their depths. As she walked towards the first stake, a sickle appeared in her hand. The tool glowed as if it was made of moonlight as well. She stopped in front of the druid and named him. With a single tug she yanked the gag from his mouth but he didn’t say anything in response. She lifted a luminous phial and poured out glowing water on his head. As it coursed down his face, it shimmered like silver. “Unbind him and give him back his staff.”

She walked moonward to the next member of Saraid’s circle without waiting to see if she was obeyed. Again the single spoken word of her name. She raised the phial again and poured water over the woman’s head. The gleaming liquid touched the woman’s skin and turned black as tar, oozing slowly downward and covering her eyes. It blocked the woman’s nostrils and crept into her mouth. Bridach watched with no expression and then lifted the sickle. One quick movement and she slit the woman’s throat. She sagged, held in placed by the ropes binding her to the stake. A murmur went through those watching as it became obvious that the woman wasn’t bleeding. There was no blood spilling forth, and those closest whispered that there wasn’t even a visible cut across her throat.

Bridach worked her way around the circle. Each was anointed from the opalescent phial. She slit three more throats, and ordered a priestess loosed. The next she came to was an older man. His beard was almost as white as the sickle of moonlight in Bridach’s hand “Aonghus.” Her voice shook for the first time through the entire ceremony.

“Bridach.” His voice quavered as well. “Don’t do this child.”

“It isn’t my choice.”

“You’re like a granddaughter to me.”

“You will not be the first member of my family to receive death from my hand. You have no one but yourself to blame.”

He started to speak but she raised the phial and poured out the gleaming liquid. The instant it turned black she slit his throat and moved on before he had finished sagging. She paused before approaching the next priestess and her head dropped. When it rose again, the moonlight glinted off a tear on her face, but her expression was still stony. Five more she tried, executing each of them until the last, a female druid, the youngest of the group. She couldn’t have been more than a few years older than Bridach herself, though she was slightly taller and fuller of hip and breast. Her hair was the color of chestnuts and had feathers woven into the braids that hung down her back.

Bridach pulled the gag from her mouth like she had for all the others. “Rós,” she named her.

The druid smiled back. “Bridach. I’ve been asking to talk to you for more than three days now but they wouldn’t let me. Didn’t think I’d have to get tied at a stake to finally get to say a few words.”

“I’ve been gone.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong, Bree, I will swear an oath to that.”

“It isn’t my choice to make.” She lifted the phial. When the liquid stayed silver as it dripped from Rós’s chin, Bridach dropped the decanter and the sickle. They shimmered and dissipated like mist before they hit the ground. Bridach untied Rós and then hugged the young woman. The two embraced for several seconds before she finally stepped back. “Give the druid her staff.”

Bridach walked to the center of the circle. “Bring me the staves and headdresses of the dead.” When they were piled at her feet, she raised both hands over her head, cupping them like a crescent moon. “The goddess has judged here. The dead will be burned until there is naught but ashes remaining. There is no room in the Morrigan’s service for those who seek their own. Let the warning be spread by human voice, by the howl of the wolf and the call of the raven. Judgment comes.”

She lowered her hands and the circle of stakes erupted in fire. Everyone leapt back from the wall of flames, swearing and stumbling over each other as they tried to avoid getting scorched. Cian lurched forward, covering his face with his arms, but was quickly forced back as the heat singed the hairs on his arm and curled his beard. Bridach walked out of the conflagration a few seconds later. Her eyes were back to hazel and her dress of moonlight was gone. Cian enfolded her in his arms even though her skin was scorching to the touch. “I thought I’d lost you again.”

Bridach tucked her head against the crook of his neck for a moment. “You cannot burn fire.” She let herself have a few moments in his arms before she straightened and took her staff from him. “I must bear witness.”

She walked to the top of the knoll and turned around. Cian stood watching her, silhouetted against the flames that were leaping skyward. She beckoned to him and he joined her. “Watch with me.”

He nodded and held her hand. As the fire crackled and sent sparks into the night sky, she stood unseeing but not unfeeling. Tears repeatedly appeared on her cheeks. Rós joined them on their knoll and Bridach kissed the newcomer and then hugged her. Bridach gave her staff to Cian to hold in his other hand and then took Rós’s hand in hers. The three of them watched together, and Bridach stood witness until the last wisps of smoke disappeared in the face of the rising sun.


	20. Chapter 20

Cian ducked into the tent, hoping to find Bridach still sleeping and an empty cot he could collapse on for a few hours of sleep. After the fire she’d been exhausted so he had tucked her into one of the empty tents and left Rós to watch over her and gone back to feed the children breakfast. Ruarc and Laoise had followed him back down to the encampment after eating and his son had taken her hunting for eels so Cian could get a few hours’ sleep. He’d be surprised if they came back with anything other than wet feet.

Bridach was still sleeping but he wasn’t expecting to see Rós in the cot with her, holding her in an embrace. The druid opened her eyes as the light from the open tent flap fell across her.

“She was having nightmares again,” she said softly after the light had gone away.

“It sounds like you’re familiar with her sleep.”

“When Saraid would beat her after an escape attempt, I was the one that would tend her wounds. I’ve spent many a night holding her to keep the dreams at bay.”

Their talking caused her to waken and she smiled when she saw Cian. “How are the children?”

“Laoise is terrorizing every eel in the river and Ruarc is keeping her from drowning.”

Rós brushed Laoise’s hair back from her forehead. “Such a mother you’ve become already.”

“Things have changed so much since we were last together.”

“I kept waiting for Saraid to find you. I wasn’t expecting to find you so strong. Or so at peace.”

“I found him.”

Rós chuckled and kissed her on the forehead. “I assumed you had considering the way he looms protectively over you and the way you glow when you look at him. And that you are with child.”

“Are you happy for me?”

“Of course, sister.” Rós kissed Bridach. “Your dreams will be sweeter with him by your side.” She let go of Bridach and rolled off the cot. “Lie with her. I’ll take the other cot.”

Cian stretched out on the narrow cot and Bridach tucked herself against his side so they would both fit. He kissed her firmly, his nostrils flaring at the scent of the other woman on her and pressed his tongue against her lips until she opened her mouth. As soon as her lips were parted he dove inside, tasting her for any sign of another, and when he found nothing he pulled her closer against him, resting her head on his chest and his hand on the curve of her ass.

Bridach said nothing but smiled and went back to sleep.

She woke several hours later to a growling stomach and the sound of Laoise. “Is my daddy in there?”

She lifted her head to find the girl only to hear Rós answer.

“Yes, and he’s sleeping, so you need to be quiet.”

“Who are you?”

“My name is Rós.”

Bridach saw the shadow of Rós sitting in front of their tent and relaxed back against Cian.

“Are you a wolf lady?” Laoise asked. Bridach wondered if Laoise was standing three inches away from Rós’s face the same way the little girl had used to question her.

“No. Are you?”

“I will be when I’m grown.”

“You must be very brave.”

“I’m not scared of nothing. If you’re not a wolf lady, then why are you here? There’s going to be a howling.”

“Right now I’m here to keep people out of this tent so your da can get more sleep.”

“Is the bad lady in there?”

Bridach cringed and Cian’s arm tightened around her. He kissed the top of her head and Bridach wondered how long he had been awake.

“I don’t know any bad ladies.”

“Her name’s Bridach.”

Rós laughed, sounding like calling song birds. “I know Bridach. She isn’t a bad lady; she’s my friend.”

“She sang to the dark ladies and they came and killed people.”

“Why did she do that?”

“Because some stranger men had caught me.”

“It sounds like she was protecting you. That’s not a bad thing to do. If she was a bad lady she would have let those men snatch you up and put you in a big pot and cook you into soup.”

Cian started to sit up but Bridach put a hand on his chest. “Just wait. She’s very good with children,” she whispered.

“But I don’t wanna be soup.” Bridach could hear the quaver in her voice.

“I wouldn’t want to be soup either.”

“Do you think they really would have cooked me into soup?”

“Maybe. Or maybe they would have put you in a boat and taken you far far away across the sea and you never would have seen your da ever again.”

“I don’t want the stranger men to take me away!” Laoise wailed.

“I know. And Bridach knew that too, so she called the dark ladies to make sure you could stay here with your da as a little wolf girl and not as soup.”

There was silence for a while and Bridach was on the verge of getting out of bed to discover what was going on when Laoise spoke again.

“Did you put those braids in your hair?”

She snuggled into Cian again. Apparently Rós had given Laoise something to chew over and Laoise had moved on to the much more pressing issue of getting her hair done.

“Yes.”

“Do you know to do a wreath braid like Bridach does?”

“Who do you think taught her?”

“Can you put braids in my hair like yours with feathers in them?”

“Well, first we would have to find some feathers.”

“Old lady Saoirse has some chickens. I can catch one.”

“You are  _not_  stealing feathers from someone else’s chickens.” Bridach muffled her laughter at Rós’s firm rebuke of the little burglar.

“Can you help me find feathers?” she wheedled. “Maybe we can catch a duck or a sparrow.”

“But then who will keep people from disturbing your da?”

“Ruarc!” Laoise shrieked at an ear piercing volume. “Keep people from waking up Da!”

Cian clamped a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing and Bridach buried her face against his chest to muffle the sound as her shoulders shook.

They heard Rós get to her feet and leave and Bridach said, “We need to keep Rós here so she can chase after Laoise when I’m too big to keep up with her.”

“Doesn’t she have duties at  _Sí an Bhrú_  attend to?”

Bridach rolled over so she could lift her head enough to see his face. “Why don’t you like her?”

“It’s not that I don’t like her. She’s not pack.”

Bridach raised an eyebrow and waited.

His lip curled in a sneer. “You’re very affectionate with her.”

“She’s my best friend, the closest thing to a sister that I have.

“Were you lovers?”

“Sometimes,” she answered calmly.

The points of his fangs were clearly visible as he spoke. “I don’t do well with sharing, Bridach. You are mine, just as I am yours.”

“I know, and you don’t need to worry. I don’t love her like that Cian, and she doesn’t see me as a life mate. But we found happiness in each other’s arms sometimes, and it was the only happiness I had most of the time so don’t begrudge me that.” The hair on the back of her neck was standing on end and she took a deep breath to calm herself. “When the visions of you would plague my dreams and I would wake up crying every night she would stay with me and help me find sleep again. If it wasn’t for her, I never would have been able to get to you. She’s the one who told me that when I’m a wolf the priestesses and druids can’t see my energy when they look for me. That’s the only reason I managed to escape from Saraid.” She pressed her forehead to his. “I know she’s not faoladh, but she’s part of my pack.”

Cian grabbed her hair and pulled her head back so he could look her in the eyes. A few seconds later he nodded. “Ask her to stay then. You should have a friend here, and it will be nice to have someone you trust to help chase the babies when you’re heavy with my child.”

“Babies? How many times are you planning on getting me pregnant?”

He flipped her over and climbed on top of her with a toothy grin. “As many times as you let me.” This time his kisses were more tender and Bridach was glad Rós wasn’t sitting right outside to hear the noises he drew from her throat.

***

Cian and Bridach had exited the tent to several knowing looks and amused smiles from the others who were still using the camp as their home.

The priestess and druid she had freed the night before were sitting around the fire, along with three of the local druids and Ruarc. The two that had arrived with Saraid got up to leave as she approached and Bridach called them back. “You have nothing to fear from me. The Morrigan has proclaimed you innocent and I believe her.”

The two seated themselves again on the opposite side of the fire and kept their eyes on her. Ruarc handed her a bowl of the stew simmering over the fire and a spoon and she blew on it just long enough to keep it from burning her tongue before she started eating. Judging by the taste, Ruarc was turning into quite a good hunter. He had come back with more than wet feet  

She had finished most of the bowl before she spoke to the priestess and druid who had been watching her the whole time. “When do you plan to return to  _Sí an Bhrú_  ?

“Are we allowed to leave?” the priestess asked. The raven sitting on her shoulder tilted its head and peered at her curiously.

“Yes, Aillean. You and Tiarnach are free to go.”

“And Rós?” Tiarnach asked.

“I would like to ask Rós to stay here for a while, but if she wants to return, she is free to go as well.”

The two looked at each other consideringly and Aillean whispered something in Tiarnach’s ear. He murmured back and Aillean nodded. “What are you going to do to replace Saraid?” she asked.

Bridach slipped her hand inside Cian’s. “A few days ago I would have said that I was going to return  _Sí an Bhrú_  myself and burn the stones until they shattered from the heat.”  She turned her attention to Cian for a moment. “I don’t think that’s my role anymore, though.” She smiled at him and then turned back to the two survivors. “How do you normally choose a successor when the head priestess dies?”

“There are rituals involved that are not for the hearing of those not initiated.”

“Then I think you should follow the rituals. Saraid ruled too long and in her own way. Return to the old ways and it should be well with you.”

“We will continue to root out the darkness she brought into this land,” Tiarnach said. “Saraid was too powerful to move against with all of her followers, but now that she has been removed and many of her most powerful acolytes, there is much work to do.”

“Good. I want those who did this punished, but I fear that if I did it, the darkness she sank into me would consume me.”

A voice from behind Bridach said, “So, the firebrand has learned some wisdom.”

The priestess and druid hurried to their feet and Bridach looked over her shoulder to see Gráinne. “I still have fire enough in my heart for you, though,” she snarled.

“Bridach, enough.” Cian said.

“If it weren’t for her –,”

“I said  _enough_ ,” he growled. “You can harbor all the fire you want in your heart for her, but you will not voice it. Is that understood?”

Bridach rose to her feet surrounded by an air of murderous calm and left the circle around the fire. Gráinne stepped out of her way to avoid a collision and Cian rubbed his hands over his face.

“Your mate needs to learn some manners, Cian,” Gráinne said as she settled on the stone that Bridach had just deserted.

“You need to stop goading her. She has good reason to hate you and you know it.” He stood. “You all can plan how you’re going to fix the damage Saraid and her followers did. I need to go find Bridach before she takes her anger out on someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

He caught up with Bridach not far from the camp just as Rós and Laoise reached her.

“Look, Da!” Laoise showed him her cupped hands full of the shells of the tiny river clams. “Rós is going to show me how to put holes in them so I can put them in my hair.”

“If that’s acceptable to both of you, that is,” Rós added as she leaned on her staff.

“Of course it is,” Bridach answered. “I’m sure you’ll look even prettier than you usually do,” she said to the dirty faced girl in front of her.

Laoise squinted up at Bridach. “Thank you for keeping me from being cooked into soup.”

Bridach smiled at Rós who was standing behind the little girl trying not to laugh. “You’re very welcome.”

“Are you still going to be my new mum?”

Bridach looked at Cian for a moment and then squatted down in front of the little girl. “I would very much like to be another mum for you.”

“And you won’t let the dark ladies get me?”

“I would die rather than let them get you, Laoise. I promise.”

The big blue eyes filled with tears. “I’ll be good and you don’t die. I don’t want another mum to die.”

Bridach hugged the little girl tightly. “I’ll try my very best.”

She was still enjoying the feel of hugging Laoise again when a man’s voice said. “Well, isn’t this a nice little family reunion.”

Cian answered, “Yes, it is Olcán. Bridach was just telling Laoise that she’s going to be her new mum.”

He nodded slowly at the news. “So, you really have decided then,” he said to Bridach.

She stood up, holding Laoise on her hip and her staff in her other hand. “I’ve made my choice.”

“Well, then. Happiness to both of you.”

“We’d like you to stay with the pack during the howling. We don’t want you to feel like you aren’t welcome with us,” Cian said.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea.” The druid left and continued down to the encampment and then called over his shoulder, “A challenge is still coming.”


	21. Chapter 21

The crackling from the bonfire was the loudest noise as Bridach walked toward Cian under a starry sky. Rós held her by the hand and had plaited the earliest spring wildflowers into a wreath for her to wear. Cian was being escorted by Ruarc and Laoise. The little girl’s face was freshly scrubbed and Rós had added flowers to her hair as well. The bribe had been necessary to get the child to stop running around for a few hours with the group of other pups that had quickly formed as the packs had gathered in the meadow throughout the day.

When they reached each other, they clasped hands. Bridach spoke first. “You I choose and you only. Fur or skin, tooth or fang. Before all the faces of the Goddess, you are chosen, mate and pack.” She waited for the flash of green light or some other magical sign like had happened during her choosing in the forest, but there was no sign.

Cian smiled and then spoke his oath. “You I choose and you only. Fur or skin, tooth or fang. Before all the faces of the Goddess, you are chosen, mate and pack.”

There was no outward sign, but she felt it this time. A quick glance inward showed that the fragile strands of the bond that had formed earlier had thickened like an old vine, twisting and twining around each other and her soul. Cian grasped her face in his hands and pulled her into a long kiss that had her weaving her arms around him. Over a hundred voices rose in a howl of celebration. The noise made all the hairs on her arms stand on end and Cian kept kissing her and she kept kissing him until long after the music started and the dancers had to make their way around them as they stood in the glow of the flames.

Cian and Bridach danced until they were hungry and then she sat in his lap as they fed each other savory morsels from the wedding meal. Laoise would dart by every so often and snatch something to eat before going back to the group of littles who were having their own dance, weaving in and out amongst the adults and trying to learn the steps and indulging in enthusiastic jigs of their own make. Bridach nudged Cian so he would stop kissing her neck long enough to see Ruarc dancing with a girl with full hips and long hair.

“He takes after his father,” Cian smiled. “I never had a problem finding the prettiest girl around either.” He went back to kissing her neck while his hand stroked her from breast to hip.

“It’s good for him to be with more of his kind.”

Cian looked up at the melancholy note in her voice to see her watching the rest of the packs dancing and singing together. “And you? Do you feel welcomed back to your kind?”

She rested her temple against his chin as she spoke. “It’s like my soul has hungered for years with no way to sate its appetites. You slaked my hunger, but this is a feast for my soul. I had forgotten the songs of our people, and though I cannot sing them, their words flow through my veins again, and I am home.” She kissed Cian. “You have given me back myself and so much more.”

Cian kissed her again. “I think it’s time for us to depart.”

Bridach laughed and plucked another morsel of food from the bowl. “Good luck getting Laoise to go to bed with all this to distract her.”

“No, she’ll end up asleep in a pile with all the other pups when they tire themselves out.”

Her hand froze as she reached for the bowl again. “I remember doing that. And getting woken up in the morning by one of the pack women. I haven’t thought about that in years.” She smiled to herself as she remembered that warm and squirming pack of bodies breathing around hers and waking up in the sunshine.

“And I told Ruarc to check on her before he goes to sleep.”

Bridach shifted in Cian’s lap, rubbing against him sinuously. “I’m glad you claimed two of the tents as ours so we can have a little privacy from the children.” She nuzzled his throat and filled her lungs with his scent again. She never wanted to breathe anything else.

She nipped and Cian pulled her away. “Not for tonight though.”

“No? You have other plans?”

“No one ever told you of how a Choosing night goes?”

She shook her head. “I left the pack that adopted me when I was fourteen. There wasn’t any need.”

“We spend the night together under the stars in our wolf form. We hunt together, feed together, drink together, mate and sleep together, with nothing human about us and only the warmth of each other to rely on.”

Bridach gracefully rose to her feet and pulled her dress off over her head. She was already barefoot as was he. Cian shed his clothes and they both shifted their forms. He gently bit her muzzle for a moment as they stared into each other’s eyes, both now identical shades of amber, and then let her go. She nipped at his throat and then licked his face. The two of them trotted off into the darkness and Cian howled at the sky. Bridach added her song to his and a second later Laoise’s high pitched call was joined by Ruarc’s deeper one. Then the rest of the packs joined in, and the chorus of her people’s music followed them into the forest and beyond.

>< 

Cian and Bridach followed their noses back to the howling the next morning and right to the pack of pups sleeping under a tree in a great pile of fingers and tails. Cian extricated Laoise from the heap and she flung chubby arms around his neck and went right back to sleep on his shoulder. As they were about to leave for their tent, another woman approached the pile. Her long dark hair fell in one thick braid to her waist and she smiled at them tiredly.

“I should have brought my husband. I’ve got two in there I need to get home.”

“I can help,” Bridach offered. “Cian, take her home and I’ll be there in a few minutes.”

He claimed one more kiss from her before he took Laoise away.

“You didn’t have to do that.” She handed Bridach a sleepy little girl who was probably only two years old. She didn’t even open her eyes as she snuggled into Bridach’s chest.

“I have problems keeping up with just one little one. I don’t envy you two to chase after. Besides, us pregnant women need to help each other out.”

The woman put a hand to her stomach. “Am I that large already?”

“No. It’s just a gift I have. I can see peoples’ light. And you have a very tiny light inside your bigger one.”

Aeryn smiled and stroked her stomach. “Your gift.” She pulled out another girl from the pile and groaned slightly as she picked her up. “It is from the Goddess?”

Bridach nodded as she followed the woman back to her camp. “Yes. You need not fear me. I am in training to be a druid. Normally I would have a staff with me but…”

“You couldn’t take it with you Choosing night. Of course.”

“Then you know who I am. What is your name?”

“Aeryn. Can you tell if the child is a boy or a girl?”

“Yes. Would you like to know?”

She nodded.

“It’s a boy. He seems very healthy and happy and calm.”

“Oh good. After his two sisters that’s a blessing on more than one face.” She patted her stomach. “This heat was odd. I was planning on secluding myself this year and waiting until these two were at least a year older, but it came early and strong. Caught my mate and I both off guard and here I am.” She looked around at the little camp. “And here we are.” They had built a domed hut out of boughs and layered furs and Bridach could hear a man snoring inside. A pot of porridge simmered over the small fire.

“My heat came early, too.  Though I think it worked for the best.”

Aeryn smiled. “You look at him like you love him.”

“I do. And he loves me too.”

“Blessings on both of you.”

Aeryn took her daughter into the shelter they had erected and came back out for the little girl in Bridach’s arms. “Thank you for your help. If I could impose for one more minute, one of the other women thinks she might be pregnant. Would you mind using your gift for her?”

“Of course not.”

Aeyrn put the youngest inside with her sister and then led her to another camp. Their shelter was also of boughs and skins, but these were mostly rabbit where Aeryn’s tent had been of deer. A woman with grey hair threaded through her brown was stirring a pot of porridge over a small fire.

“Caoimhe, this is Bridach. She has the sight and can tell if you’re with child or not.”

“You can?” She rested the big ladle in the pot and stood up. “I’m not even sure I’ve missed my bleed yet. My heat was so early this year. I’ve never felt anything like it. Couldn’t have resisted if I’d a had a mind to do so.”

“Yes, I can. Do you want to know?”

The woman laughed and rubbed her hands together. “Of course.”

“You are with child.” She hesitated and then added, “With children actually. There are two.”

Caoimhe sank back down onto the log she had been sitting on. “I don’t know if that’s a good thing or an ill omen. I thought this heat felt strange, but to be carrying twins while we plan a war?” She shook her head. “It makes me cold.”

Bridach had forgotten the faoladh songs, but not the stories. Not the stories of the women of the packs going to war carrying the ones who would replace those who would never know them. Often the women would birth twins after their mates were dead and burned, as if the Goddess was giving them the numbers they would need to rebuild after so much loss. Twins were often seen as a war omen, even in times of peace.

“It doesn’t have to be a bad sign, Caoimhe. The packs have shrunk over the last three hundred years. The Goddess has acted against the evil that is responsible. She could just be giving us more children so that we can reclaim what was lost.”

“Go see, find Dierdre and Treasa. They both told me yesterday they were with child after having the same early heat that I did.”

Aeryn sat down on one of the other logs.  “I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted.” She tilted back her head and howled, a call for the adult women to gather. “Let us see if we can find the bottom of this sack.”

It didn’t take long. Even with the camps spread out for privacy, it only took a few minutes for all the adult women to gather. Bridach felt her heart grow heavy as they came, solo and in pairs. Every single woman was pregnant, over half of them carrying twins. There were more women than packs, which meant that it wasn’t just the pack leaders who were with child. Every single woman carried a babe in her belly. None of them should even have gone into heat yet in a typical year, though it was a blessing of sorts that none of them would go into heat during the howling. The peace between pack males was tentative at the best of times at these gatherings and a female in heat could cause deaths.

“Raise your hand if you know you’re with child,” Aeryn said.

Most of the women raised their hands. It was mostly the younger ones who didn’t. Aeryn looked at Bridach in question.

“I am Bridach. Most of you have never met me before. I Choose Cian last night.” She nodded at the murmured blessings. “I have also been trained as a priestess and a druid. I have the gift of sight. I carry Cian’s child within me after going into an early heat. I thought it was just me but it appears that all of us went into heat early this year. All of us are with child. Many of us carry twins.”

She waited as the women exchanged worried glances and murmured to each other. Some of the younger ones backed away. “No,” she held out her hand, “don’t be afraid. No one is going to hurt anyone right now. We will protect all the young that have been given us this year. This is something that has happened before with our people when they were about to go to war. The Goddess will give us the children we need to rebuild that which we have lost.”

“We canna rebuild our husbands and our sons,” one of the older women cried out.

“No. We can’t. And I have a husband and a son that will be fighting alongside yours. We must make a decision, women. We know what this might portend. We know there will be death, but that is the way of war. There will always be death.”

She took a deep breath and hurried on, past the visions of Cian’s broken body and broken axe. “But there is another possible meaning. The Goddess’s worship has been tainted in this isle for the last three hundred years, over which time our numbers have dwindled and the packs have retreated north. We are not now what we once were. That evil darkness has been removed and the circle been cleansed. Worship has been righted in this isle, and I will tell the whole story tonight at the fire, but trust me when I say that it has been cleansed. The goddess may just be giving us these children to reclaim what we have already lost, not because there is another loss to come.”

“So how are we to tell?” a younger woman called out. Bridach looked at the worried face of the girl, too young to be a pack leader which meant her world was already in disarray without this added confusion. He hand was cupped protectively over her belly, over the twin boys she carried.

“We wait,” Bridach answered. “We wait for the war. I have had visions as have others, and we have all seen different things. There is no way of knowing right now which future will happen. There are too many ways for the winds to blow arrows awry and ships onto the stones. But we need to make a choice, all of us, together. Do we tell the men that we carry a possible war generation within us, knowing that the news may frighten or discourage them but also that it may give them more of a reason to seek for additional wisdom and guidance from the Goddess when they make their battle plans, or do we keep all of our individual pregnancies a secret from the men as a whole, and let them each go to battle determined to make it back to the child they have yet to see?”


	22. Chapter 22

The sparks from the bonfire wafted upwards, glimmering fragments that winked and disappeared as they got too close to the stars. The packs had assembled for the first night of business of the howling. Each pack sat together, and Bridach had Ruarc and Gráinne on one side of her and Olcán on the other. It was the first time he had joined with the pack since the howling had begun. Laoise and the other pups were playing quietly in the back of the gathering. Cian and the leaders of each pack sat in a row at the front of the gathering. The council had called for the news of the packs, and each pack wife stood and shared the births and deaths of her pack and any information she thought pertinent to the packs as a whole. Pups born since the last howling were passed around so scents could be learned and blessings given. As the newest pack wife, Bridach was last to speak. She stood slowly and smoothed her hands down the front of her dress. It was her first time speaking at a howling, and the news that she had to share would probably not be well received.

“We have no deaths or births to share, though I am with child. You all saw Cian and I Choose last night. That is the news of the pack. But there is news that I must share that is not just of concern to faoladh but to humans as well. The moon waxes and wanes, just as the worship of the goddess grows and diminishes in this island. The goddess knows that the diminishing is necessary for it is in the darkness her followers come to appreciate the light. There were some, however, who decided that they would keep the light shining forever, and they perverted the ways of the goddess, turning the dark into a weapon instead of a time of rest and rebirth. Those who have perverted her ways have been removed, and the purge of the darkness seekers continues.”

“These dark workers have done damage to both human and faoladh alike. The tribes have diminished in number. The histories of our kind include the tales of howlings where a hundred packs gathered, and now our people can be counted on less than four hands in the southern stretches of our island. The humans, too, have dwindled. In my journeys I have seen abandoned farms and villages grown over. Hopefully, we will gain in numbers now that the darkness that took so many of our children has been removed.”

“The women have talked and we have knowledge for the war council. It is their wish that I share this news for all of them. We are with children.”

There was a rumble among the men and then Fionach called for her to explain.

“We are all with child. Every adult woman of the pack, wife or not, is with child. The heat came on all of us early and strong, and every one of us carries in her womb. Many of us carry twins.”

“I know,” she spoke louder over the outcries from those hearing this news for the first time, “I know that twins can be seen as a bad omen, especially in the days before war, but it is also possible that the goddess gifts us the children to regrow the packs from the losses we have already suffered. The women have talked and we would not withhold this news from the council, but we would also ask that the council not lose hope. War brings death, but it does not mean slaughter.”

She sat back down and Ruarc patted her back.

“That is not all the news from our pack,” Olcán said as he rose to his feet. “Cian is under challenge for leader.” Cian shot to his feet but the man next to him grabbed his arm and kept him from moving.

“Olcán, not now,” Bridach hissed.

“Yes, now. I challenge him for leadership of our pack.”

She lurched to her feet and curled her hand protectively over her belly. “You can’t do that unless you have a woman to lead the pack with, and I will not be your mate.”

“I don’t need you.” He held his staff in front of him like a weapon. Bridach had left hers in her tent. “Cian isn’t the only one to have taken advantage of an early heat. My child is carried in the womb of one of our women as well.”

“Who?”

“I would not name her yet. I don’t want her harmed. And I don’t need her name known to challenge Cian for breaking the Law.”

Bridach grabbed his shoulder, burying her fingers in his fur cloak. “Olcán, don’t do this.”

“He made you Choose while you were in heat,” Olcán snarled. “That’s against the Laws of our people.”

Sparks started to fly from the ends of her hair. “And I repudiated him after my heat had ended. We Chose each other, free and willing, Olcán.”

“He should pay for breaking the Law.” Olcán’s face subtly shifted. His jaw moved forward like a muzzle and his teeth were acquiring deadly points.

The fur under Bridach’s hand sent up a singed stink and she pulled her hand back. Flames twisted around her fingers and licked up her forearms. “And what would you have that punishment be?” Her words slurred as her tongue fought to shape letters with fangs instead of teeth.

“He should be stripped of his rank. He should not be leader.”

“And then it would go to you?”

“There are no other males.”

Ruarc surged to his feet. “I will fight you for it, Olcán.”

Bridach put an arm out to block Ruarc from advancing. The flames shot up and danced along the length of her entire arm. “No. I will not accept this. We face war and there will be death enough without either of you dying here. Olcán, you have a mate with child outside the pack. I understand that can be frightening to you and you have the need to provide for your own, but have you not listened to what I have said? The packs have diminished. There will be territory for all the males who have followed the Goddess’s call to bring up our numbers to have their own territories, with their mates, and with their children safe. That is true even now, before a war that may kill more of us. Your woman and child will be safe, Olcán. I know the way of the lone male was not safe in the past, but we have no need to limit our numbers right now.”

“I want his word on it.”

“Cian’s?”

“Yes. And if what you say is true and there are more than just my mate with child, I want the word of the council that the males responsible and their mates will be kept safe and given their own territories.”

The council conferred amongst themselves. While they talked, Olcán took a step closer to Bridach. “Give me back the power you have drained from my staff.”

“I didn’t even realize I was doing that.” She put her hand on Olcán’s face and he closed his eyes. Within moments her flames died out and the stone in his staff was glowing again.

“You still need to work on your control girl. Many a druid would beat you to the ground for tampering with a staff like that.”

Finally, Fionach stood. “If what Bridach says is true, and we have no reason to doubt her, for the story she tells is one that others told us of her before, then these children are a gift of the goddess. They will be honored and protected. If the young mothers wish to Choose their mates, we will have time to do so at this howling. If they do not wish for a permanent pairing, we will make sure they are placed with a pack where they will be safe and the child raised in the faoladh way. We will wait until after the war, when we gather again to mourn our dead, to assign new territories.”

A howl of approval went up from the assembly.

“Now, we have had the news of the pack. You know that rumors of war have reached all of our ears and we are here to decide if we shall fight or not. We have several people here who have had visions of the coming war. They will share their visions with us, and then we will discuss what is to be done.”

>< 

Bridach was curled up half asleep by the time Cian returned to the tent. The discussion had lasted hours, and the council had to deliberate after that. He stood in the center of the tent and stretched. “The council voted for war.”

“So what happens next?”

“The packs will start to move to the battle ground. Olcán and Fionach will talk with Tadgh about the humans’ plans, and then they will meet us there. Gráinne will spread word amongst the priestesses and druids. Along with the help from the two that went back to _Sí an Bhrú_ , hopefully enough of them will show up to fight that we have a chance at winning this thing. From the visions you and Olcán have seen, it sounds like there will be a mighty army waiting for us.

“My hope is that we can get there before their ships arrive. That will give us an advantage.”

He sat on the edge of the cots they had lashed together and piled high with blankets and furs and removed his boots. Bridach sat up to kiss him on the cheek but he leaned away from her.

“What are you angry about now?”

“I don’t like you keeping secrets from me.”

Bridach sat back and crossed her legs in front of her. She absentmindedly stroked her stomach. “The women agreed it would be safest if the announcement was made all at once. It is dangerous to be a pregnant female without a mate, especially if some of those babies are the pack leaders’.”

Cian looked at her in concern. “And are they?” Pack leaders weren’t supposed to mate with anyone other than their wife. It caused a multitude of problems when there was more than one woman bearing his children.

“At least two of them. But the council has guaranteed safety for the women, and if any of them don’t feel safe in their packs, I told them that they could come to you and you would make sure they got moved to a new pack.”

“You told them that? Without talking to me? Is that what all those younglings were doing at our fire this afternoon?”

Bridach moved so she was sitting behind him and rubbed his shoulders. She called just enough of her power to warm her hands as they worked over the knots in his shoulders. “They’re not younglings, Cian. Most of them are just a year or two younger than me.” She pulled up his tunic and he lifted his arms. She went back to work rubbing his bare back. The tent was barely lit by a single candle. Her sense of smell was stronger than her vision in the darkness and she nuzzled his neck and hair as she continued to stroke his back. “I’m young to be a pack wife, and so was Móirín. To a lot of the pack wives, these pregnant girls are challenges to their leadership. Several of the women said that they were surprised to find themselves with child, thinking that time in their life was over, and now there’re all these pregnant fresh-faced women about reminding their mates of what they used to look like. It has a lot of the older women nervous. The men may be planning a war, but a lot of these women will fight alongside their men while worrying that if they all make it out alive that they will be cast over for a younger mate and their children taken from them to be raised by a different woman. No woman wants to be a crone before her time.”

He caught one of her hands and pulled it forward and kissed it. “And are you worried that I will toss you over?”

“No. In fact, I have already offered to let one of the women move to our village and join our pack.”

“Again without consulting me?” He chuckled and shook his head. Móirín had done the same thing, get an idea in her head and run with it. Not all pack leaders appreciated that sort of spirit in their mates, but he most definitely did.

“She was mated by the pack leader. She has no desire to marry him and she and the pack wife don’t get along. She wants a fresh start, so I told her she could come stay with us. Assuming the council approves.”

“I should just make you pack leader in name as well as fact. You are going to have the largest pack at the next howling by the way you bring everyone in.”

She kissed the back of his neck as she slid her arms around him, clasping her hands over his chest. “It doesn’t have to be the largest one, as long as all those who are in it now are still in it then.”

“You are a true faoladh. You watch for the lost and the sick and the injured and keep them safe. There are those who have been raised in a pack their whole life who don’t honor the path like you do.”

“I think it’s why I make such a horrible priestess and druid. I have my path.”

She kissed his cheek and he leaned into her touch this time. “Móirín was as close to a lone wolf as you can get and still live in a pack. She loved me and the children, but she spent much of her time out hunting. You are a pack animal, and you will not be happy until you have a full pack about you and a cozy den for your pups.”

“I am happy in this tent with you, Cian, and our two children sleeping in a tent next door, and our third sleeping in my belly. I don’t need much.”

“I know, beautiful creature.” He leaned back against her and held his hands over hers. “But you have changed so much around you already. You have healed injuries I didn’t even know where there. Ruarc told me he doesn’t want to leave anymore.”

“Does this have anything to do with that girl he was dancing with last night?”

“I think it has more to do with you. You made me realize he’s growing up. There will still be rough spots ahead for him and me, but he laughs again.”

“Da!” Laoise shouted from the next tent over.

“What?”

“I can’t sleep. I want to dance some more.” There had been dancing and singing for all those gathered who hadn’t been sequestered with the council. Bridach had sent Ruarc to bring her home so she could make sure the little girl had eaten at some point during the day. Laoise had loudly protested the interruption to her enjoyment of the festivities.

“No more dancing tonight.”

“Bridach!”

“What, child?”

“Can I go dancing?”

“Your da said no.”

“But you can say yes ‘cause you’re going to be my new ma.”

“I’m never going to disagree with your da, child.” She giggled. “At least not in front of you,” she whispered and Cian pinched her leg.

“You’re no fun, Bridach.”

“I know.”

She kissed Cian and was complicating his attempt to lay down and pull her over him when Laoise called out again.

“What?” Cian called back, since Bridach was kissing her way down his chest.

“Can Bridach come tell me a story?”

She looked up at Cian and then nipped at his stomach. “One story, Laoise, and then off to sleep.”

Cian covered his face with one of the furs and growled.

“Don’t go to sleep. I’ll be right back.”

He gave a swat to her bum as she slid off the bed and grabbed her dress. “Make the story short.”

She kissed him again. “The shortest one I know.”


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> They go to war in this chapter. There is violence and death. Consider yourself warned.

Bridach stood in the ancient circle of stones letting the power seep into her as she watched the sky lighten from grey to blue. This circle had been so little used for hundreds of years that the power lay deep and slow, almost feral in its resistance to answer her call. Over the last few weeks she had spent as much time getting the circle to respond to her touch as actively using the power. As the sky lightened the noises of fires being stoked to life and food being prepared drifted up from the camps arrayed behind her. The packs had arrived a few weeks ago, and the humans had come from the villages as well to ready the battle site.

Knowing where the battle would take place gave them advantages. They had feasted on oysters and mussels and clams and then broken the shells into knife edged shards and scattered them over the beach where the enemy would land. The druids had spent their time sending their energy into the algae and mosses and causing them to flourish, leaving the rocks slick and clogging the water so there was nothing potable for them to use. There had been a short discussion about coaxing in some bull seals or even walruses to camp on the beach but that had been abandoned. No one wanted to coerce the animals into fighting and possibly dying.

The previously idyllic meadow she had sat upon with a soul chafed raw from a broken bond was now home to noxious thistles, brambles, and thorns. None of it had been her handiwork. Instead she had sat in this circle and pulled power out to feed to the druids who had shaped the field into something entirely different from what had been shown in the visions. The water table had been brought up right below the surface. From a distance it looked normal, but one step would send the victim into mud up to his calves. Biting insects hung in buzzing swarms over the new marsh.

Her stone began to glow as the power exceeded what she could hold in her body. This would be her role when the battle came: to pull as much power as she could from the stones and feed it to the druids and priestesses who had come to fight. There had been fewer of those than she had hoped. She may have removed the source of poison when she killed Saraid, but there was damage to the sisterhood that would take years to remedy.

The sun edged above the horizon and as the sea let go of the glowing orb, Bridach swept her mind of any future worries. She had one thing to do. She watched and waited, and as the sun finally slipped completely free of the grasp of the ocean, it was blotted out for a moment by the flight of a raven. Its call echoed over the battle field, three harsh cries that resonated in her bones.

That was the sign she had watched for every morning for two hands of days.

The battle would begin today.

>< 

They were arrayed along the line of hills. Bridach had the high point as she stood in the circle. Along the line of the army she could see the glowing staves of the other druids. She had fed them energy until their stones throbbed with it, sending eldritch shadows skittering over the ranks. The priestesses were closer. Most of them weren’t fighters, but their powers would come into play later, both as they worked the stones and as they acted as healers for the wounded. There were so few of her people. The songs told of armies arrayed in the thousands and there was not enough here to fill even a single thousand rank. A shadow had fallen long and deep over her people. After the battle, there would be reckoning paid to those responsible.

Cian stood a little ways off in the line of fighters with his axe resting comfortably on his shoulder. Ruarc stood at his left, where Cian would have the opportunity to cover him with his shield if necessary, and mimicked his father’s pose. Her heart was there with them, instead of in her own chest. Laoise was back at the village with Maeve, the _faoladh_ woman they had taken in, who had promised to raise Laoise as her own if none of them made it back from the battle. Her hand stayed cupped over the emerging swell of her belly. So many little lives hanging in the balance of what would happen here today.

The morning mist burned off and the first glimpse of the enemy appeared. The boats looked even larger in daylight than in the silvered glimpses in her visions. Huge sails decked the masts and there were banks of oars besides. Muttered comments rippled up and down the lines as the number of boats increased on the horizon. One of the drummers started a slow resonant rhythm and the fighters picked up the beat, turning the murmuring into a song of their heroes. Bridach listened, wishing to sing. One song and she could end this. One song with the power of a circle feeding it and those ships would be empty of life. The life in her belly would go dark, though, and this entire shore would be tainted beyond her capacity to clean it. No, she had made a promise to not feed the darkness that had been implanted in her, no matter the temptation, and so she watched and waited.

Sound travels on the back of a magical steed over water, and when she heard the drums coming from the boats she grabbed Olcán’s hand. “Ready to try this?”

He nodded and they interlaced their fingers. Their feet stayed on the ground in the middle of the stones, but she followed his focus as he skimmed over the water and made the wakes of the boats froth and bubble. He pulled her with him until she was swimming around the center boat. She leapt from the water and perched for a moment on the eagle prow as she surveyed the ship for likely targets. She jumped down onto the deck and began to move. Her fingers brushed over the ropes, picked at the sails, caressed the tunics of the sailors, and danced over the scrolled maps, leaving sparks and flames behind to be fed by the wind of the ship’s passage. Another presence joined her a second after her body felt someone grab her shoulder. Gráinne danced along the mast and carefully nurtured the small flames that were sprouting all over the ship, feeding them just the right amount of air to let them stretch and grow. Bridach kept looking for what she truly wanted until she found the sealed amphorae of oil. There she perched and ran her hands over the baked clay, heating it until it exploded, sending scorching liquid over everybody and everything nearby. She smeared a rune in the spilled oil and kissed it and snickered as all the oil on the ship burst into flame.

Olcán tugged her back towards the shore and she clung defiantly to the boat and the beautiful flames. The sail crackled as it ignited and the ropes were glowing necklaces hanging from the smoldering mast.  He pulled harder and she reluctantly followed him back to shore, snapping back into her body like an arrow fired at a target.

She opened her eyes to the sky over her head and Gráinne watching her with a concerned expression. The woman’s worry faded into exasperation as both she and Olcán sat up from their sprawled position on the grass. Their staves no longer glowed and Bridach could feel the energy licking along her skin as it sank into her again, filling the emptiness.

“You two think that because you’ve got Bridach’s power behind you that you’re invincible, but you’re both dumber than dirt.”

Olcán rubbed his head. “It worked though.”

They all looked out to the sea and the flaming hulk of a boat rocking there.

“Aye, it worked. And you both spent enough energy that you would have snapped your soul lines if I hadn’t caught on and had three priestesses anchor each of you. We can’t afford to lose either of you right at the beginning.”

“We took out an entire ship, Gráinne. Think of how many people we no longer have to fight.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t a good plan, child. Just next time, ask for help. I know you’ve got it in your head that you can’t trust a priestess, but we can help you carry out your fool schemes in safety. Not all of us want you dead, and the ones who do are holed up in Sí an Bhrú, terrified you’ll snap their neck and set them ablaze with the snap of your fingers. So let us help you.”

For all that Gráinne looked Bridach’s age, she felt all of the woman’s centuries in the force of her scolding. “Yes, Gráinne.” She bared her throat for a moment and then used her staff to leverage herself to her feet. Cian was staring at her and she smiled to reassure him.

When the ship started smoking, Cian glanced at Bridach just in time to see her collapse. Only the ring of priestesses that suddenly surrounded her kept him from breaking the line and rushing to her side. He kept watching her though, shooting glimpses at the boat as it went up in flames. An explosion rocked the vessel and flames shot skyward. A cheer broke out along the lines and morphed into vulgar obscenities being hurled at the remaining boats. He kept watching the stones until he saw her stand again, her face as dull as the stone in her staff. She smiled at him, but he kept watching until both her dragonfire and her face glowed again, and only then did he return his attention to the foes.

Gráinne, Olcán and Bridach managed to take out another boat before it landed, but all three of them sat in the circle and watched the boats land as Bridach poured energy back into them. Food and water was sent up and down the lines and everyone ate lightly as the enemy attempted to land. Everyone knew the battle plan. Stand, watch, and mock. They were to let the land fight for them and break the enemy’s spirits before they attacked so it would be easier to break their bodies. The scouts who had promised a soft landing and easy camp were going to be confused by what awaited them.

There was no movement from the boats for a while. Bridach howled in derision and heard wolves join her from the ranks, all howling, slightly off note in an eerie wail that sent shivers down the spines of the humans she could see. One of the human bards had enough of that and set the drummers to work, and again the war songs of the people rang out. Gráinne twisted the direction of the wind so it carried the song out to the boats.

“Tadgh,” Bridach called to the chieftain who was standing in the line in front of the circle.

He came back to the edge of the circle but wouldn’t enter it. “Aye?”

“How many  good archers do we have?”

“You have a plan, firewolf?”

“I was wondering if we fired a volley of arrows but deliberately aimed short so they think we can’t reach them on the beach and then fired another one of the boats, if that might get them moving.”

“I’ll talk to the war council. It might be worth the cost of the arrows to give them a bit of comfort and then snatch it away again.”

Tadgh left to go find the other leaders who were stationed along the line.

“Do you really think it’s wise to spend that much energy with them already ashore?” Olcán asked.

“It won’t be as much. They’re closer this time and I can just explode one of the oil jugs instead of sparking the whole ship. I’ll do enough to cause chaos.”

Several minutes later Tadgh came walking back up the line. “I’ll give you signal lass, when it’s your turn.”

A minute later, the deep bass of the biggest drum rolled across the line. Three steady beats. On the third beat a flock of arrows flew, landing close to the wide beach but still in the marsh. A few minutes later, Tadgh signaled her. Bridach flew her out to the ship and she poured fire into the jug of olive oil until it exploded. One more smeared rune and it ignited. Gráinne yanked her off the ship and together they watched as the men on the burning ship jumped overboard.

They slipped and skidded as they clambered over the mossy rocks onto the shore. Every time one of them fell, they were rewarded with roars of laughter. Once they got to the shore it was no easier for them. Shell fragments pierced through the leather sandals and left them limping as they searched for some place to safely stand.

Tadgh edged back to the circle. “Can you fire another boat?”

“Aye,” Bridach nodded. “I can do this one, and then it will take a while before I have enough power to do another.”

“Then do it.”

“Tadgh,” Gráinne called him back, “while we’re doing this, get someone from the camp to bring up rags and a barrel of oil and send some archers. If they’ll get fire arrows in the air, I can make sure they land on the boats.

Tadgh nodded and grabbed a man from the line and sent him running back to the camps.

“Thank you, Gráinne. It’s taking longer and longer for me to get the energy back after each of these.”

“I’m used to working in a circle, girl. It makes you look at things a little differently.”

Gráinne carried her out to another ship and she fired one more container of oil.

By the time her body opened its eyes again, the enemy were abandoning that ship as well and there was movement on the other boats that made it look like they were getting ready to come ashore before their own vessels went up in smoke.

Gráinne waited to make sure she was fully present before she went to work with the archers. Flaming arrows soared over the enemy, held aloft by invisible hands. They landed in the sails and rigging, out of easy reach of the soldiers and an obvious threat. Gráinne landed an arrow on the eagle prow of each boat. Bridach heard the mocking laughter of the ravens coming from the shadowed forest.

Gráinne came back into the circle and Bridach clasped her hand. The older woman pulled energy from her until she could stand steady on her own. Rós approached with a platter of food and a skin of water. “You all need to be eating. Your body will starve while you feast on the light.”

Rós stayed and ate with them. They watched the ships rocking in the water as more and more soldiers jumped over and swam for the shore. Those that picked their way across the beach took a few steps into the meadow and stopped as they mired down in the bog. The beach got crowded with more soldiers as no one wanted to wade through the bog. A man in a golden metal shirt gathered with other gold shirts in a cluster.

“Gráinne,” Tadgh yelled, “can you put one of your arrows in the middle of that?”

“Give me an archer.”

A flaming arrow shot through the air and struck one of the metal shirts. Soldiers ran and put up a double row of rectangular shield around their other leaders. Others crouched behind their own shields, forming small rows as they carefully edged together into squares. After a few more minutes and some shouting, a single soldier edged forward into the marsh. He made it forward several body lengths before a vine shot up, wrapped itself around the man and yanked him down under the water. There was thrashing and flailing for about a minute and then calm resided upon the meadow again.

Bridach looked at Rós and Olcán. That had not been part of any plan that she had heard.

Olcán shrugged.

“I think that must have been Brion,” Rós offered. “He’s got a way with plants that can be a bit scary even to the trained.”

There was no movement on the beach for several minutes. Then a small group of soldiers edged down the beach, carefully picking their way amongst the broken shells. They approached the river that wound its way across the beach  to the sea and slogged through the algae clogged water. As they approached the other side the trees took a step forward. The soldiers stopped.

Bridach had spent each night pouring energy into Cian as he coaxed the trees into awakening and defending their flank. It appeared that he had been successful. The soldiers stepped forward again and once more the trees advanced. Their branches wove around each other into an impenetrable wall. One soldier edged closer and stabbed at the wall with his sword. The tree grabbed him with a twiggy branch and yanked him off of his feet. His sword fell to the ground as he dangled suspended in mid-air from a wooden hand.

They were all so enthralled by the living trees that they didn’t hear the enemy sneaking up behind them.

Their first warning was the point of the spear emerging from Gráinne’s stomach.

Bridach grabbed the woman and screamed for Cian. She reached for all the power she could hold and threw it at the pack of soldiers who had climbed up the back of the hill. More of them were down the slope and she set the whole hillside ablaze in a wave of fury.

Cian came running, as did others when they saw what was going on. Gráinne painfully gripped Bridach’s hand. “Let me see,” she whispered. “Let me see the battlefield.” Flecks of blood sprayed from her mouth.

“You need to lie down,” Bridach pleaded.

“No. I’m not long for this world. Let me give them a proper farewell.”

Bridach and Rós helped Gráinne stand, and wrinkled arms linked over their shoulders. Her hair shifted from silver to grey and deep crevasses formed around the corners of her mouth.

“One last offering to the goddess,” she whispered and closed her eyes.

A whirlwind appeared on the meadow and spun itself to a towering height before it moved towards the enemy. It whipped up mud and as it hit the beach, razor edged seashells and rocks, sending them flying through the foe. The storm surged through the enemy troops, throwing them in every direction. It split into two storms and then three. One kept tearing through the enemy. The others proceeded to the boats, sending flames jumping from one ship to the next and whipping into an inferno. The fire howled in the wind and sank its claws into the boats, tearing them apart with flaring claws.

Gráinne looked up at Bridach. “Don’t let any of them live. None of them must live.” Her eyes flickered and then went blank. The wind died.

Bridach slumped to the ground and cradled Gráinne in her lap. She hadn’t seen this. None of them had. How had none of them had a vision of a group of soldiers attacking from behind the line? One of the boats must have landed northwards and they had hiked over the hills. How had she missed this?

The drums started a warning cadence and she looked out over the battlefield to see the enemy massing for what must be a desperate charge. Half a dozen priestesses lifted Gráinne’s body and carried it away and once more Bridach hauled herself to her feet with the help of her staff and Rós. “I’m out of power,” she confessed. “I threw everything I had down that hillside.”

“It will come to you again. Just stand here. You have done your part with honor so far. Now you are just a vessel. Just be.”

The warning drums turned into a war song. The fighters beat their weapons upon their shields in time with the drums as they chanted. “Goddess watch over them,” she whispered. A full circle of priestesses entered the stones and started their rituals. All of them were clad in simple robes, a single moonstone on each brow. They were young. Just like she was, she reminded herself, and she had already killed countless numbers today. The smell of roasting meat was carried on the breeze along with the scent of scorched earth.

The enemy charged as well as it could. They stumbled through the marshes and their precise formations crumbled as mud and vines dragged them to a halting stagger. Everyone who could use a bow let loose a rain of arrows over the foe, combined with the more skilled archers picking off those who had stumbled from the rank or gotten sloppy with their shield. Finally, as they started to exit the marsh and regroup at the base of the hill, a sharp three beat rattled through the air and the archers let loose with a final volley of arrows.  Everyone exchanged their bows for axes and swords and staves, many of which had come from the same yew as the one she held in her grip. They had gotten this far with only one death. She knew that number would grow in the next few minutes.

Before the enemy could get situated, the quick double beat of the drums signaled a charge. She howled as she watched her pack go to war, and howls from throats both human and animal echoed back to her. The roar of her people, both kinds of her people, drifted up the hill to her and was followed by the crash of humans and weapons against shields. Some of the enemy formations held. Others shattered under the force of the blows rained upon them. The steady line took on a wavy appearance as the enemy advanced in some places and was driven back in others. The clanging of metal and wood bashing against each other wasn’t able to drown out the shouts of the wounded and dying. Most of the druids were fighting, as skilled with their staves as weapons as they were comfortable using them to work the flows of power. Olcán was down there somewhere, but she couldn’t take her eyes from Cian and Ruarc for long enough to look for him.

She was watching when Ruarc’s axe embedded in the shield of the enemy. She was watching when he stumbled trying to yank it free. She was watching with the sword came down, aimed at her son’s neck. She was watching when Cian threw himself in the way and the blade hacked into the side of her mate’s throat.

Her eyes were closed and she was screaming when the bond broke.

She kept screaming.

Bridach was halfway down the hill before Rós managed to catch her. Fire was sprouting from her fingers and wrapping around her arms as Rós wrapped herself around her friend.

“Let me go,” she howled.

“No! You have to get back in the circle.”

She thrashed against Rós’s arms. “I have to go to him. I have to save him.”

“He’s dead, Bridach. He’s dead and you know it. You _saw_ this.”

“I can save him,” she screamed.

Rós slapped her across the face and Bridach finally looked at her friend. “He’s dead, Bree, and you know it. You have to get back in the circle so there aren’t more deaths. You left every one of those priestesses unconscious with the backlash from you snatching all the power in that circle like a fox snatches a chicken. You have to get back in the circle. Priestesses need that power. Druids need that power. You have to get back in that circle before you cause more deaths.”

Bridach screamed in agony as she crumpled in Rós’s arms. The druid picked her up and carried her back into the circle. The priestesses touched her and started drawing back the power she had stolen but she kept enough to set up a wall of fire around her mate’s corpse and protect Ruarc while he grieved over his father’s body.


	24. Chapter 24

Rós held her for the rest of the battle as she sobbed, rocking back and forth with her arms clenched around her stomach, cradling the child that would never know her father. Other hands touched her periodically, drawing off the power they needed to keep the land fighting and heal the wounded. The sounds of weapons clanging against each other and the shouts and battle cries slowly quieted. After a long time, the only thing she could hear was her own crying.

She lifted her head. The dusk was bleeding the sky of its remaining light. The priestesses were no longer engaged in ritual prayers to the goddess for her vengeance upon their enemy. It was just her and Rós, and then Ruarc sat down next to them.

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered and she wrapped her arms around her son and held him while he cried out his loss on her shoulder.

Bridach wrapped her loss carefully in furs and tucked it away for now. Ruarc needed her, and Laoise would need her as well. “It’s not your fault.” She smoothed a hand over his hair. “Your father is a hero and you did nothing wrong. He’s probably already tracked down your ma in Tír na nÓg.”

“He should be here with you, Bridach. It’s my fault.”

She lifted his face and wiped some of the blood from his face with her sleeve. “It’s not your fault, son. Come on, let’s go clean you up and get you fed. We are not with the deeds of this day.”

>< 

Bridach stared into the bowl of stew someone had handed her. Ruarc was managing to eat, but the first bite had lodged in her throat and she couldn’t take another. Others were gathered around the fire, the ones healthy enough to walk or with friends to support their steps. There were quiet conversations and long periods of silence, broken only by the sounds of the injured being tended to with herb and knife.

“Chooser of the Dead, we are ready for you.”

Bridach looked up to see one of the young priestesses standing next to her. “What did you say?”

“You are Chooser of the Dead. The dead await you and the goddess’s judgment.”

“Right,” she said blankly. She placed the bowl of food on the ground and then used her staff to help her stand. Ruarc stood as well and she handed him her staff. The dragonfire pulsed with golden light, and the flickering shadows made him look older than he was, or maybe it was just the events of the day showing on his face. “Place my staff with your father, and make sure his body is the last one. I will not move from him once I am there.”

Ruarc nodded and hurried off and she waited until the orange ball of light disappeared from view before she followed the priestess.

“We have gathered our fallen from the battle field and have arrayed them for you,” the priestess said. “What would you have us do with the enemy dead?”

“Let the ravens and the wolves feed on their corpses and let their gods fetch the bones like dogs if they want them.”

The priestess asked no more questions.

The dead laid in rows on the hillside. Trampled grass peeked through between their bodies, and some of them were already bedecked with flowers. Each woman and man held the weapon they had carried into battle that morning. Briefly, she paused in the circle of stones and closed her eyes. She lifted her arms over her head and cupped the moonlight in her palms. When she lowered her hands, she was clad in a glowing white gown and clasping a silver ewer. She stepped out of the circle and a raven landed on her shoulder and rubbed its beak against her hair.

Bridach walked to the first body and her numbness shattered as she saw Gráinne lying in state. One of the druids must have treewalked back to the village to get her ceremonial robe and sickle. A silver band of moonstones adorned her forehead. Bridach lifted the ewer over her head and poured. The water turned silver before it even touched the woman’s skin. “Let her be received into Tír na nÓg.” She kissed the woman’s forehead over the moon tattoo before she moved on.

The water never ceased its supply as she anointed the head of each dead. Most of them she sent to Tír na nÓg, but a few she consigned to the Underworld. The cries of disbelief and pleas for mercy by the living were ignored. She worked her way down the hillside, anointing faces she knew and those of strangers, of humans and faoladh. So many dead. The raven rubbed its beak against her cheek and a rough voice whispered in her ear, “There would have been more if not for your efforts. The work of the last weeks saved hundreds, and the work of my called today saved hundreds more. You were the protector of the living, not just Chooser of the Dead.”

She slowed as she got to the last few bodies and the glow of her staff illuminated their faces. Finally she stood at Cian’s head. Her staff was clasped in his arms along with his axe. Whoever had placed him here had carefully covered the wound to his neck, but his blood had soaked into his clothes enough that it was impossible to hide. She gently ran her fingers over his forehead before she lifted the ewer with trembling hands and poured it out over his brow. The water glowed silver as it trickled from his face.

She waited. Waited for him to open his eyes. Waited for him to smile. To snarl. Something. Anything. Surely the goddess would give him back as a reward for her service or as a way to compensate the debt incurred by years of misery.

Nothing happened.

Bridach dropped the ewer and sank to her knees, sprawling across Cian’s chest as she sobbed. The ewer glimmered and disappeared before it hit the ground and her dress of moonlight faded away, but the raven stayed perched on her shoulder as she keened.

The dragonfire continued its pulsing glow as she wailed. She could not accept this fate. She _would_ not accept this fate. She had suffered too much for too long to passively sit here and accept that her promised happiness had been wrenched from her again. Her fingers tightened around her stone until the rough surfaces cut her palms. She smeared her blood against the lustral water still on his brow and howled her rage at the sky. She grabbed the stone in both hands as her pain echoed back from the trees. She howled again, the single word, “No.” With a single minded focus, she poured all of the energy in her body into the stone. When she had nothing left to feed it, she drained the stones of the druids she could sense walking among the dead. The stone pulsed, glowing brighter, starting to crack from the force of so much power pounding against it. She reached past them for the standing stones and so attuned to her touch were they after all of the work she had done with them that they freely poured into her everything they had. Too late the druids realized what she was doing. Too late they ran towards her, staves raised to knock her unconscious before she could force any more power into the fracturing stone. Too late as they felt her take the last of the energy in her body and thrust it into the stone as it glowed bright enough to illuminate the entire battlefield. Her teeth dug into her lip until they were fangs and pierced her own skin as she filled the stone until it could hold no more. The dragonfire shattered in her hands and she fell across Cian’s chest. The battlefield disappeared in a blinding flash of light.

The raven blinked three times and vanished.

Bridach opened her eyes to see a field of green under a bright sky and a glowing sun. Trees laden with fruit beckoned to her from a few feet away and crystalline water rushed over stones and fell into a pool where otters were playing.

She carefully got to her feet. Her plan must have worked and she had ripped open a passage to Tír na nÓg. As she was orienting herself, a raven swooped in and landed on the branch of the closest fruit tree.

“Well, you got here,” it rasped. “Now what do you want to do?”

“I want my husband back. Give me my husband back.”

“I’m just a bird. I can’t give anyone their life back.”

Her hands curled into fists at her sides as she tried to remain polite. “You are the Morrighan. I know who you are, and you can disguise yourself as a raven if you like, but you will give me my mate back.”

“Ah me, she thinks I’m the Morrigan and no one else around to hear,” the raven told the closest apple. “I’m not the Morrigan girl, but I’ll give you a choice. Just one.”

“What is it?”

“Do you want to stay here or do you want to go back?”

“I’m taking my mate back with me,” she insisted.

“No, lass. That’s not the way the Otherworld works. We can’t just have the living canting back and forth, plucking the dead from their reward and forcing them to work for another turn of the wheel. It would upset the balance of the goddesses if that could happen.”

“I want him back.”

The raven cocked its head to the side and eyed her with what appeared to be sympathy. “I know. It’s a very living thing to do.”

 “Please,” Bridach whispered.

The raven shook its head. “I can let you see him, but you can’t alert him to your presence.”

Bridach nodded and the raven leapt from the branch and started west. Bridach chased the bird through fields of green and dappled singing forests towards a distant horizon for what felt like hours. Finally, the raven circled overhead and then swept down and landed on her shoulder. “Just a little ways ahead, child. Remember, you can’t let him know you’re here.”

Bridach walked out from among the scattered yew trees and saw two people embracing. One was Cian. The other one had to be Móirín. They were talking and laughing and completely absorbed with each other.

She bit her lips and backed away.

“Is he happy?” she asked the bird after she had walked for several minutes, deep into the forest to rowans and a small pond of clear water.

The raven sat on a mossy branch. “Of course, Bridach. This is Tír na nÓg. This is the Otherworld. What could he want that isn’t here for him?”

Bridach said nothing, though the word ‘me’ sat heavy on her tongue. “Then I choose to go back. He is happy here and I could want nothing more for him, so I will go back. Laoise still needs a mother, and this little one that I carry deserves a life, and Maeve will need help with her babe. The council may try and take Ruarc’s land from him and install another, and he will need me to fight for him so that he can hold his father’s land. He has proved himself a man today. He deserves to lead the pack.”

“Are you sure that is your choice? You are giving up a life of rest and plenty for one of toil and digging in the dirt for the food you need to feed children that aren’t even yours.”

“I made an oath, bird, when I Chose that man. I Chose him and I Chose his pack, and his pack,” she paused for a moment, “ _my_ pack still needs me so I have oaths to fulfill. The goddess will have more use of me there than here.”

The bird looked at her with what appeared to be a semblance of curiosity in its luminous black eyes. “After all this, you still choose to serve the goddess?”

“I saved lives today in her service, though I could not save Cian’s. After so many have died from my darkness, I would work to bring light back into the world.”

“You are well spoken. Close your eyes then, and open them again back in the world.”

It was the pain in her hands that she noticed first. They were both bleeding and as she opened her eyes she saw little shards of her stone embedded in both palms. She groaned as she sat up and saw a circle of frightened faces staring at her. “What?”

The surviving chieftains were all there, some in slings or on crutches, along with the pack leaders that had outlasted the enemy. They exchanged nervous glances with each other until Tadgh finally spoke. “What did you do?”

“What did you see?”

“You were covered with an orb of pulsating light. It’s been there for an hour, shining like something out of a song.”

She looked at Cian’s still face and gently touched his cheek. “I went to Tír na nÓg.”

This was met with sharp bursts of laughter that quickly faded away as they realized she was serious.

“You went to Tír na nÓg?” Olcán asked.

“Aye. What did you think I was going to do with all that power?”

“Honestly, I thought you were going to kill us all in your grief.”

She shook her head. “There have been too many innocent dead from my hand already.”

“Then, what happened?”

“I tried to bring Cian back.”

“You ripped a hole through the worlds to Tír na nÓg to bring back one dead man when you sit among hundreds of them?” Fionach asked. His wife and his son were both among the dead arrayed upon the hill.

“It was selfish, I know, but I don’t care. Anyone with my abilities would have done the same thing.”

Olcán shoved his matted hair back from his face and leaned heavily on his staff. The stone was dark and opaque. “No one has your abilities, Bridach. That’s what concerns us.” The pack leaders sniffed at the air and she could sense their hackles rising, even in their human forms.

Bridach picked up her staff from Cian’s chest and held it in front of her. The last few fragments of the stone rained to the ground. “Are you going to tie me up now? If you want I will take what’s left of my pack and leave if it would make you more comfortable.” She felt Ruarc and Rós separate themselves from the circle and edge their way towards her.

“No,” Cian said. “You’re going to stay right here with me.”

Bridach whirled around at the familiar voice. “Cian?”

He slowly stood up as if every muscle in his body ached and wrapped his arm around her waist. The bandages fell from his neck showing unmarred skin underneath. Bridach gently touched the mended skin and saw that the cuts on her hands were healed as well. Cian cradled her cheek in his hand, weaving his fingers into her hair as he smiled.

“How?” she whispered.

“A bird gave me a choice, and I Chose you.”


	25. Chapter 25

Cian had just finished telling Móirín about Laoise jumping off the roof of his workshop and hunting her brother when a raven hopped up to them. Móirín moved to shoo it away right before it spoke.

“Cian, I have come to offer you a choice.”

Cian squatted down to see the bird closer. It looked like a normal raven. Perhaps here the ravens spoke. It would make as much sense as the trees with leaves of gold he had seen. “And what choice is that, bird?”

“To stay here or return to the land of the living.”

Móirín squatted down and peered at the raven. “I don’t remember you offering me that choice when I arrived here.”

“That’s because I didn’t.” The bird returned his attention to Cian only to have it snatched back by Móirín grabbing its beak.

“Why does he get a choice and I didn’t?”

The bird yanked its beak free and snapped at Móirín’s fingers. “Acting like that might be part of the reason.”

“Why me, bird?” He had an inkling to the reason but he wanted to hear it.

“She came looking for you.”

Cian glanced around as if he would find Bridach standing behind him. “She did?” he said at the same time Móirín asked, “Who?”

“Aye. Looking for you. Blasted a hole between the worlds and marched in like she had an army at her back and informed us she wouldn’t be leaving without you.”

“Where is she then?”

“She who?” Móirín insisted.

Cian scratched his hair for a moment. “My wife.”

Móirín surged to her feet, even though she was short enough to fit under Cian’s chin. “You married again?” She had her own kind of fire lighting up her eyes.

“Hadn’t gotten to that part of catching up?” The bird cackled.

“We’ve been married a few months.”

Cian had never seen the point of Móirín’s chin look that aggressive before. “Do you love her?”

“Yes.”

“More than you love me?” she demanded.

“Different than I love you.”

Móirín sniffed. “You should have been a bard.”

“So should have she,” the bird interjected, “but she’s made many sacrifices. The Morrigan is not ignorant of what sacrifices she asked of her or of you, Cian. Sacrifices she frequently took without your permission.”

“You convinced her to go back without me, didn’t you? So she could be the Morrigan’s tool.”

“I didn’t have to convince her. The Otherworld doesn’t work that way. You can’t just have the living wandering around picking up people or treasure and hieing themselves back to the land of the living with it.”

Cian couldn’t help but smile as he rubbed his beard. “I don’t suppose your special rules of the Otherworld mean all that much to a lass who burns a hole in the barrier between the worlds like it’s the wood for the night’s fire.”

The raven flapped his wings a few times before he folded them back against his sides again. Was it possible for a raven to look offended? Because this one did. “I told her she could stay here if she wanted, but she chose to go back.”

Cian narrowed his eyes. That did not sound like his Bridach. “Why?”

“Because I showed you to her.”

“Me?”

“Aye. She saw you and said you looked happy, and she would go back and take care of the rest of the pack. Ruarc will need her help, so she says, and so will Maeve with the new baby. And of course your baby.”

“She’s carrying your child?” Móirín interjected.

“Hadn’t gotten to that part either, had you now?” The bird coughed a laugh and preened his chest feathers for a few moments.

Cian grabbed the bird and held him at eye level. “You showed her me and Móirín.”

“Aye.”

“Were you trying to be cruel or do you come to it accidentally?”

“Tír na nÓg is a place of peace and happiness for the dead, not the living. It’s not my responsibility to look to their happiness.”

“Did she cry?”

“No.”

Cian shook his head with half a smile on his face. “Of course not. She wouldn’t do that in front of anyone.” He put the bird back down and rubbed his hands over his face.

Móirín paced as she watched him thinking. She saw him come to a decision and stilled. “You’re going to go back to her, aren’t you?”

“I have to,” Cian said simply.

“Why?”

“Because I love her.”

“You love me too,” Móirín reminded him.

“But you’re happy here. You have everything you could need, and me being here won’t change that. She won’t be happy without me.”

“She could find someone else.”

“No. With most people I would agree with you, but I am the only one for her.”

Móirín turned away from him. “And is she now the only one for you?”

“No. I love you, Móirín. I died in every way but breath with you, but Bridach brought me back to life. She gave our children back their father. She did it before and she’s going to do it again, because I love you, but I don’t love only you.” He pulled her close and rested his forehead against hers. “I love you, wife of my youth, and I always shall. Now that I know you are safe and happy here in Tír na nÓg, I can go on with the rest of my life in peace.”

“Tell Laoise and Ruarc that I love them.”

“I will.” He tilted her face up to meet his again. She only resisted a very little. “And knowing all this, can you still say that you love me?”

She clasped his hand against her cheek. “I love you, Cian. I always will.”

He laughed and ran his fingers through her long hair one last time. It gleamed with a luster that it never possessed while she had been alive. “Until you get bored and decide to be born again into the world of the living. I estimate that it will happen in another span of the seasons or two.”

She smiled at the truthfulness of his words. “You know me so well.”

“I do. Now, come give me a kiss.”

Their tears flavored their kisses before she finally drew back. “Tell her one thing for me.”

“What would you have me say?”

“Thank you for leaving him with me, but he wouldn’t be the man I loved if he stayed. Thank you for making him happy again. And sometimes, when she hugs Ruarc and Laoise, ask her to give them an extra hug from me as well.” The last words were fragmented by sobs that shook her body and Cian held her until she had stopped her weeping. He kissed her one last time and turned to the raven.

“I’m ready to go back.”

“Then close your eyes and open them again in the world of the living.”

Cian closed his eyes, and the last thing he remembered before opening them again was the whispered rasp of a voice.

“I will smooth away the pain of your leaving, and let her keep the joy of seeing you again.”

>< 

Bridach sat naked on the cot, the piece of venison in her hand forgotten as she listened to Cian’s tale. It had not been the first item addressed when they had finally made their way back to their tent. The story of their voyage to and from Tír na nÓg had been demanded of both of them. It was Olcán, to both of their surprise, who had intervened for them, promising the story the next day with the reminder that everyone had fought a battle today and perhaps sleep and food would be a better use of their time. Still, it had taken an hour to make their way to the camp as people kept stopping them to touch him and assure themselves of the reality of the whispers that had raced far ahead of them. Ruarc had needed another half an hour with his father before he would let him go. And then, when they finally were left alone in the tent, the first thing they had done had been to yank each other’s clothes off as fast as possible and make love with a frantic intensity that could only be found on the opposite side of confronting death.

Finally, as they both lay sweating and panting in a pile of furs and blankets, Bridach asked, “Why did you come back?”

Rós opened the flap of the tent long enough to give them a platter of food and two huge flagons of ale and then left again. They both ate as Cian started to relate his story, but Bridach forgot the food as the words continued.

When the tale had come to its conclusion, she sat silently for a minute and chewed the venison as she chewed over his words. “I find it hard to believe that you came back for me,” she finally said.

“Do I need to make love to you again so you can believe in the reality of it?”

Bridach shoved a piece of meat in his mouth with a grin. “No. It is just you were so happy with Móirín. You love her.”

“And I love you, too. I knew if I did not come back, you would doubt the truthfulness of my love for you to the end of your days.”

Bridach smiled and stroked his leg where it pressed against hers. “I know you love me. I _knew_ you loved me, but you love Móirín and I saw you with her. I couldn’t have asked you to leave her.”

“I love you as well, and she had me for years. I want you for at least as many as I had her.”

“You don’t love her more, just different.”

“Just different.”

She tossed the piece of meat back on the platter. “I think you need to make love to me again so I will believe it.”

Cian kissed her smiling mouth. “I will make love to you as many times as it takes.”

>< 

Bridach woke to a small face just a few inches from her own. "Good morning, Laoise."

"It's not morning anymore. Rós and Maeve said I couldn’t wake you up so I’ve been waiting.”

Cian sat up and stretched. “Did Maeve bring you here?”

The little girl shook her head. Her hair was neatly braided and her face was scrubbed clean. “Olcán brought us through a tree.” She looked at both of them with wide eyes, as if she expected them to call her a liar, but they both smiled. “Can you do that, ma?”

Bridach pulled the little girl into her lap and gave her a big hug. “No, I can’t.” And then she hugged her again. “You have to be a very powerful druid to do that.”

“The ladies at the big fire are saying that Da died and you went and got him back. Is that true?”

Cian patted the top of his daughter’s head. “Yes, it is.”

“Did you see my first ma?”

“Yes, and she said to tell you she loves you.”

“It’s too bad we already burnt her up, or she could have come back too, and then I could have had two mas.” She hopped off of Bridach’s lap and headed back outside.

Cian and Bridach looked at each other. “Yes,” Cian answered. “That’s too bad.” There would be years ahead for more complicated answers.

As they stepped outside the tents, Bridach could see the flames of funeral files to the east. “Who are they burning?” she asked Rós, who had taken up her usual place guarding their tent.

“The enemy dead. I know you said not to,” she said as Bridach opened her mouth to object, “but there would have been disease and more death if we had not. Besides, we have a responsibility to repair the battlefield and remove all of the changes we made before we leave.”

Ruarc laughed. “Leave a couple of the vine monsters. Those things were amazing.”

“What’s a vine monster?” Laoise asked.

Ruarc looked at his parents and then at his little sister. “It’s a giant plant and it sneaks up on you,” he bent over and stalked towards the little girl, “and it wraps its viney arms around you and tickles you!” He grabbed her and she erupted in peals of laughter. The sound was met with tired smiles from those were injured and resting around campfires.

“Now,” Rós said, “if you two are both awake for the rest of the day, I am needed to bring in the families of the dead for the fires tonight.”

“Of course.” Cian nodded. “I’ll keep an eye on my pack.” Rós picked up her staff and headed towards the forest. Maeve was standing by the fire, stirring the big heavy pot. When he approached her, she ladled out a bowl of stew for him. “And are you going to stay with us or go back to your old pack now that the leader will change?”

“I would stay here, if that is acceptable.” She didn’t look at him as she held out the bowl with both hands.

Bridach embraced the woman. “You will always be welcome at our fire, Maeve. We will have it made permanent with the pack leaders when we gather again.”

“Olcán told me that he has been given leadership of another area and will be leaving after the battlefield is repaired.” She looked at Cian like she was bracing for a beating at relaying the news.

Cian nodded. “That’s probably for the best. We will need a new druid and a new priestess in the village.”

“Rós will stay and she will know priestesses who would be happy in a village rather than at Sí an Bhrú.”

“Everything has changed.”

Bridach kept her arm around Maeve and stroked the young woman’s arm. It would take much longer than the few weeks she had been in the pack to get over her fear of a pack leader. “It is the way of the circle. Things are always changing. New lives join us, and old ones depart.”

“I would like to watch the funeral fires tonight,” Ruarc said. “I think it would be the right thing to do.”

Cian reached out to ruffle his son’s hair but stopped himself and clapped Ruarc on the shoulder instead. “I think it would be as well.”

They all stood on the hillside that night as the fires were lit. Each human and faoladh was lit individually, unlike the enemy troops that had been burnt in one large fire. As Bridach watched the fires sending up sparks to dance among the stars, she was grateful that she had not been called upon to light the fires. The energy from the stones was slow at seeping into her. She had drained that well almost dry the night before and what little was left she would have gratefully refused but she still had no way of stopping it. She might have to move further away as the night proceeded.

As the moon arced above the battlefield, Bridach was joined by the raven once more. It perched on her shoulder and rubbed his beak against her cheek. “You have served well,” it rasped in her ear.

She looked at Cian but he gave no sign of having heard the animal.

“My priestess tried to stitch darkness to you as a babe, but she made a mistake and only embedded it in what would have been one of the greatest bardic gifts of the age. I fought back by giving you more access to the light than I have ever given a human before. I’m here to take back that gift before you decide to blast any more bridges into the Otherworld with it.” The bird cawed in laughter. “But I will take the darkness away as well.”

Bridach shivered as the bird brushed a wing over her face. A beam of silvered moonlight enveloped her for a moment and then disappeared. The bird nudged her cheek once more and then launched itself into flight, beating its wings three times before it soared over the fires and disappeared.

The power wasn’t seeping into her anymore. She could still see it like Olcán had taught her to do, but no longer did it cling to her. She grabbed one of the threads of the energy that lay over the field and pulled. It entered into her with painful slowness. She let it go and it rested among the roots of the grass again. Her gift was gone.

She looked inward and saw the growing light of her daughter, still sending off sparks of green and amber. The bond between her and Cian was back, intertwined with threads for all the members of her pack as well. It was stronger than it had been before. Her soul glowed beneath all of the oaths she had made, brighter than it ever had before. The darkness that had always clouded her light was gone.

With trembling hands she opened her mouth and began to sing. Her voice was steady as the lament poured out, steady and soaring like the raven over the fires of the dead.


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pronunciation guide
> 
> Líadáin - LEE a dane  
> Sadhbh - SIVE

Bridach stopped throwing the chopped off greens of carrots and radishes and parsnips into the trough for the pigs and pressed the heel of her hand to the small of her back. The pains were coming regularly now and for long enough that she was fairly sure that it was real this time. She’d already called Rós to her cottage three times for what she had thought was her labor starting only to be told that it wasn’t yet time. She took a step towards the cottage and felt a faint pop and then water trickling down her thighs. Bridach winced and then took another step towards the cottage. “Laoise!”

The little girl came running from where she had been digging carrots from the cold winter soil. “It’s time for the baby, isn’t it?”

Bridach nodded and blessed the child’s endless curiosity about everything for giving her the wisdom to recognize the pained look on her face. “Go get your da…” She bit her lip and grimaced.

“I’ll get Da and then I’ll go find Rós.”

“She might be out in the woods today.”

Laoise wiggled her nose. “I can find her.”

The girl ran off and Bridach waited, holding onto the rail of the pig pen as another pain rippled through her body, causing her stomach to visibly shift under her too-tight dress. It had been like this for several hours now, but the pain was growing worse and she wasn’t sure she could make it to the cottage without something to hold on to if another pain hit. Thankfully, he didn’t have to wait long. Cian came running and picked her up in both arms and carried her home.

He kissed her temple as he walked. “I was wondering if today would be the day. You looked a bit pinched around the eyes this morning while we were eating.”

“I just didn’t want to call Rós for another smile and reassuring pat on the head.”

Cian hid his smile. He was used to the frettings of a pregnant woman, even though they were unfamiliar to Bridach. At least she had Maeve for sympathy. “Stubborn lass. Well, you’ll have a child by the end of the day today, unless she’s as stubborn as her mother.” He put her down by the bed and helped her strip off her wet dress. Tossing it aside, he grabbed the furs that Bridach had washed the week prior and spread them over the bed before helping her onto it. She knelt on her hands and knees and let her belly hang down, hoping to get the pain in her back to relax. Cian rubbed the small of her back and held her hand through the continuing pain. Ruarc brought in a kettle of clean water and set it over the fire to heat before leaving again. “I’ll go find Sadhbh,” he called over his shoulder.

Bridach didn’t note the passage of time as Cian kept rubbing her back. All of her focus turned inward, as she focused on the child trying to emerge from her body, coaxing it along with soft whispers of encouragement. Rós appeared and crumbled a handful of dried leaves into a mug of water for her to drink. It seemed to help with the pain. Sadhbh periodically checked on her progress. The new priestess was even younger than Bridach, but had the same calm efficiency and steadiness of presence that had characterized Gráinne. Laoise sat quietly in the rocking chair and quietly watched the whole procedure with wide eyes. Bridach had the sensation once again that she would be sending the girl to spend more of her days with Rós or Sadhbh soon.  Laoise frequently was found tracing the patterns on Bridach’s staff and had fashioned herself a small staff out of a stick and rock and would take it with her whenever they went gathering or hunting. Rós had helped Bridach choose a new stone for her staff and was giving her lessons in druidry as time permitted, but Bridach found it difficult to make the time for learning when there was always one more task around the cottage that needed to be completed. The cairns and jugs were full, a blanket was on the loom with an elaborate pattern taking shape in the different colored threads, they hadn’t lost any of the livestock, and the gardens were flourishing. She’d even started brewing ale. Her staff spent most of its time leaning against the wall remembering past glories and only ever had the faintest glow.

Maeve arrived with a meal for everyone as the sun faded and night crept around the village, casting shadows against the walls and doorways. Light leaked out window shutters and under doors. Eventually, the cry of a baby was heard and more lights appeared as candles were lit and an offering of thankfulness burned sweetly fragrant in the fire.

Bridach wept as she held the little girl to her breast, no longer tears of pain but of happiness as the tiny dark-haired child nursed and Cian wrapped the babe’s fingers around his own. Rós laid a new small blanket of the softest rabbit fur over the infant and everyone left so that the family could be alone for a while with the new baby.

Later that night, Rós and Sadhbh took the baby and washed her in herb-scented waters and wrapped her in swaddling bands that the priestess had embroidered. The child slept peacefully as Rós and Sadhbh carried her up to the circle of stones that danced under the moonlight.

“Your parents will call you Líadáin, sweet child,” Sadhbh said, “when they bring you here to have you blessed and presented to the goddess, but that is not the name you will carry through the ages. You are the reason it was so important that your parents come together. The goddess needed them to fight the battle against the enemy, but you will take the battlefield again when you are older and the fight more dear. There has never been a child like you before, steeped in the power of the goddess before you were even born. You will have your father’s gift of talking to the trees, and your mother’s way with fire. You will become a great druid, little one, and the name you will be remembered by is Mareláin.”


	27. Epilogue

Bridach dropped the platter of oat cakes on the table with a thud as she grimaced. She dug the heel of her hand into the top of her belly, trying to get the baby to stop digging its toes in between her ribs. She wasn’t sure if that is what it was actually doing, but it sure felt that way. Cian was the only one to notice her discomfort and he rubbed her belly sympathetically. Ruarc was too busy grabbing an oatcake to see the kiss Cian placed on her stomach, as was Laoise. Rós had been teaching the girl how to identify every plant and tree and today they had spent the day in the winter forest, working on identifying plants without leaves. Several hours of cold hiking had left the girl famished. She closed her eyes for a few moments as Cian rubbed her stomach, feeling the baby disengage its toes from her ribcage and kick against his father’s hand. When she opened her eyes again, Líadáin was breaking one of the oatcakes into pieces and dipping it in her stew. Brion and Brógán were smearing honey over their oatcakes with their fingers, which meant another round of washing faces and hands and tunics was in the offing, and Rós had little Aoife on her knee, letting her pick pieces of cooked carrot and rabbit and chunks of oatcake and egg out of her own little bowl.

The baby kicked again, particularly hard this time, and Bridach smacked the table with one hand as she bit back a curse. Brion and Brógán loved learning new words and the last thing she needed at the moment was the twins chasing each other through the village gleefully shouting obscenities at the top of their lungs. “That’s it,” she muttered. “Ruarc, after you’re done eating, go get Maeve or Marga and take your father and go send out the call for a howling.”

The children burst out in excited chatter at the idea of another howling, but Ruarc looked confused. “It’s still winter. Shouldn’t we wait until spring for a howling at least? Preferably summer so none of the females are in heat?”

“You’re going to go summon a howling, Ruarc,” she growled, “and you’re going to Choose your woman, and bring her home in time for heat, because I am done with this nonsense.”

Cian burst out in laughter and Bridach smacked him in the arm. “You don’t have to make Ruarch Choose to be done breeding, lass. I’ll just go a trade journey while you’re in heat and that way we don’t have to worry about another.”

“No.  _You_  will stay here with the children,” her face screwed up in pain as the baby kicked, “and  _I_ will take a barrel of ale and go into the forest and hide for a week and sleep.”

“If that’s the way you want it.”

“Maybe Maeve and Marga will go into heat at the same time I do and we can all get drunk and hunt and laugh and sleep in a big pile of wolves for warmth together.”

“And what do you suggest they do with Cairell while this is going on? They don’t have a husband to leave the boy with.”

“They can leave him with you. At this point you won’t even notice another one. Honestly I don’t care what they do with him,” she winced again and rubbed her hand against her back, “as long as you promise me this is the last one.”

“I promise.” He had lost track of the number of times he had promised this was the last one in the last few months. They’d already expanded the cottage, adding a small room for him and Bridach, and turning their old nook into a sleeping area for the girls. The twins went up in the loft with Ruarc. He’d doubled the size of the table, too. “But why don’t we put off calling for a howling and just go to the yearly one in the summer. That will give Ruarc and me time to build a house for them.”

“What makes you think I have a woman ready to answer my call anyway?” Ruarc asked.

His parents just laughed. “We’re not blind or deaf or devoid of scenting,” Bridach said.

“And you insisting on going for trading to the same village every month for the last two years is a bit of a clue, even if we were.”

Bridach grimaced and rubbed her back again. Luckily Ruarc would haul another cauldron of water for her to wash the boys tonight. He and Cian did all the heavy lifting over the last few months. She really should sit and eat but she couldn’t settle. Instead, she smeared one of the oatcakes with honey and nibbled at it while rubbing her hand slowly over her taut stomach.

“Ma,” Laoise said, “you should go lie down. Your pains are coming quite steadily.”

“What?” She snapped out of her reverie at her daughter’s words.

“Did you not realize you’ve gone into labor?”

Another pain hit her and she groaned and grabbed onto Cian’s shoulder. When it dissipated she managed to get out a half-hearted laugh. “I just thought I was really tired from everything I did today, but you’re right. That’s a contraction.”

“Okay, littles,” Rós said as she stood up, “pick up your bowls and follow me. We’re going to go have dinner with Auntie Maeve and Auntie Marga.” She balanced Aoife on her hip and led the parade out the front door. Laoise grabbed a clean fur and spread it over the bed as Ruarc scraped the last of the stew out of the cauldron into his bowl. “I’ll go get clean water.”

Bridach stripped off her gown and climbed onto the bed with Cian’s assistance. She rested on her elbows and knees once more, letting Cian rub the small of her back. Laoise left to find Sadhbh and it was only her and Cian for a few minutes.

“This is the last time,” she murmured.

“The last time for us. You’ll be there to help Ruarc’s mate through her labors.”

“Better her than me.” Her laugh was cut off by another pain.

Ruarc came back in with the water and set it over the fire to heat. “Her name is Sorcha,” he said, having overheard the last comment.

“Sorcha,” Cian repeated. “Next time you go trade with her village, ask Sorcha if she has any special requests for the house you’re building her.” Ruarc stood up from adding more wood to the fire. He was taller than Cian now, with the same color hair, though his wasn’t touched by the grey that was beginning to weave its way through his father’s. He was a man now and Cian stood and hugged his son tightly. “You’re ready to become pack leader, son.”

“You’ve got another year at least of being in charge. You can’t make me be leader until she’s carrying my child.”

“Cian,” Bridach called out, “it hurts.”

Cian clapped his son on the shoulder. “This will be your spot next time.” He returned to Bridach’s side and took up his position rubbing her back again. This was his fourth time at her side for this travail but experience didn’t make the pain any less. Each time was the same and yet unique, just like turns of the year, and turns through the cycle of life. He was still a father, but soon his son would be as well. He would become an elder and his son would take over the pack. It had flourished under Bridach’s leadership – he had no qualms about attributing its growth to his wife and her skills – and she would pass those skills on to Sorcha. His youngest children would grow up with nieces and nephews that would be more like cousins. Bridach crying out in pain brought his thoughts back to the present. Rós came in to help, having been replaced by Ruarc in caring for the littles, and Sadhbh and Laoise arrived a few minutes later. They cared for her together, bringing one more child into the world, a little boy they named Ruaidhrí. She had feared that she would bring him ash and destruction, but instead she had brought him life.

 _The End_  


End file.
